Our Story Won't Be As Long
by geekyalbatross
Summary: Kili is still alive when Tauriel finds him after The Battle of the Five Armies. She and Legolas fight to save him from his wounds, but even if he is saved is there a future for an elf and a dwarf who fall in love? Will Kili pursue becoming King Under the Mountain? How will Legolas cope with the changes to his life now that he has experienced love and death? Kiliel
1. Chapter 1

She had told him the story of Beren and Luthien once, at the shores of the Long Lake, after she had saved his life. He had remembered it always, because it gave him hope that their love wasn't perhaps a fool's love, doomed from the begining, despite all their differences that spread like a chasm between them. Now, as he lay bloodied and on the edge of unconciousness, staring at the sky full of bats and huge Eagles outlined against the bright full sun, he could almost hear her voice as she told the tale - "_Beren was mortal man, doomed to die. Luthien was elf-kind, immortal and fairest of all the Children of the Eldar..._" His chest rose up and down, his body labouring to keep breathing. He wanted to hang on, if only long enough to see her one last time. He had seen Fili cut down mercilessly, he had fought what seemed like endless waves of Orcs in his fury and grief. He had watched as the Pale Orc and Thorin battled on the ice, and saw Thorin defeat him - but he had seen also that he had suffered a fatal blow in the process, and watched as he collapsed at the edge of the ice, while Bilbo ran to his side. He had been glad the little Hobbit was there with him, at the end. Kili had tried to make his way down from Ravenhill, but could not get to his Uncle, keeping getting waylaid by Orcs that had come up from the rear. He had known then that he would surely die here, along with his kin, but the rage of the deaths of the two most important men in his life had kept him fighting, until he at the last tussled with Bolg himself. He had managed to hold his own, for a while, but Bolg was too strong, and the orc had lifted him like a rucksack and pierced him with his spike. That was when a flurry of arrows hit the Orc, and he had dropped Kili onto the snowy ground, where he now lay surrounded by the corpses of a dozen Orcs and goblins. Kili had heard the fight continue, had seen out of the corner of his eye the blonde elf who had been with Tauriel at Lake Town. That was why now he held on with all of his might, thinking of _her _\- she must not be far behind the male elf. He kept breathing, kept willing his eyes to stare at the battle in the sky, kept filling his mind with memories of her voice, telling him the tale of lovers from different races, coming together to fight a great evil and pursue, into the very depths of horror and depair, their love for each other. If they could do that, Kili could surely hold on long enough to see her, to tell her one last time, _Amralime. _"Inikh-de, Amralime..." he whispered, and repeated this phrase again and again in his head, willing himself to hold on, just a little longer, hold on, _Inikh-de, Amralime, Inikh-de... _

Tauriel danced with her daggers, not slowing down as she encountered foe after foe. She had seen from afar Legolas shoot the arrows at Bolg, watched the huge Orc drop Kili to the ground - she had heard herself scream then, a sound that seemed to come from somewhere outside of herself, but kept moving, knowing that if she stopped to consider the young dwarf might be dead, she would collapse into weakness and sorrow. She had to keep fighting her way to him, she had to believe that she could save him for a second time. The Eagles shrieked overhead, and she knew the tide of the battle was turning in their favor, and as she slashed and stabbed her way toward Kili the tide began to subside as many of the enemy now realized the same, and began to retreat away from the combined forces of Men, Elves, Dwarves and Eagles. She heard metal upon metal and saw above her on a ridge Legolas, his daggers pushing against the dark iron of Bolg's spike, the huge Orc still standing and still full of unnatural strength, even with the bolts of five arrows protruding from his chest and back. At that moment a huge Bear beast crashed into the group of Orcs in front of her, causing her to jump back in shock. The beast headed towards Legolas and Bolg, and she shouted, "Legolas, Noro! Noro!" He heard her and sensed the coming of the beast, chose his moment and then lithely pushed himself forward with all his strength, then used the momentem to take his feet and push off of Bolg's chest, flipping backward onto the snowy ground below the ridge, landing gracefully just as the Bear Beast leapt onto Bolg, mouth open and sharp teeth poised to bite the jugular. Within minutes where Bolg had stood there was only the beast, and a patch of blood soaked snow beneath him, the rest of whatever was left of Bolg out of sight behind the beast's large body. Legolas's chest heaved as he gasped for air, and he nodded towards Tauriel to let her know he was alright. She spared him a terse nod back and then ran towards where Kili lay, no more obstacles between her and him, but fear heavy in her heart as she knew she might find him already gone.

He could no longer feel his legs. It felt as if every breath was a struggle, but he kept forcing himself to focus on pulling the air in, breathing it back out. The whole world seemed to have slowed down, the Eagles above him flying gracefully, their wings beating in time with his own slow, ragged breaths. The snow was falling steadily now, and every once in a while he felt the kiss of a snowflake upon his face. Suddenly the sun above him was blocked and a shadow lay over him, and he feared that this was the moment his body would give out on him. But that was when he saw her face come into view, in slow motion, and she was wreathed with an otherworldly light, looking the way she did when she had healed him in Lake Town, looking like she was walking in the white light of forver that she had spoken to him about long ago. He smiled. He wasn't sure if this was real, but he whispered nonetheless, "Amralime..." It was then that he felt her hand touching his arms, and felt her take off his gloves so she could wind her fingers with his. She brought his hand up to her own cheek, placing it there and kissing his knuckles. "I am here." she said, smiling sadly. "I am here, melen nin."

"So this is real." he said, smiling at her, managing to move the tips of his fingers ever so slightly, caressing her cheek.

"Yes," her voice broke into a sob, tears streaming her beautiful face, "Yes melen nin. I promise you this is real. I am here with you. I am not leaving your side."

"I was remembering the tale...remembering how you told it to me." he said, his eyes searching her face.

"Oh, Kili," she started, but he shook his head, cutting her off.

"Amralime...I wanted to see you once last time. I have been granted that. I do not think our story will be quite as long as theirs. But I would have loved you...I would have..." he struggled for his next few breaths, winced as a jolt of pain traveled from somewhere in his chest up to the back of his neck. He saw her eyes go wide in alarm, felt her grip tighten on his hand where she held it to her cheek. "I would have gone with you to where the world falls away...take me with you..."

"Remember when Beren held in his hand a Simaril, and Carcharoth took his hand within his jaws and bit it off at the wrist?" Tauriel asked, and Kili nodded, a tear escaping from his eye as he struggled to stay here with her, struggled to keep his body from failing. "Luthien was certain Beren would die. While his spirit wandered upon the borders of death she healed him, and she sang to him, and he came back to her. Please melen nin, do not give in, fight for me. Fight for us. Give me time in which to heal you." Kili stared up at her, and his whole world in that moment was the white light and Tauriel's face, and he breathed in again deep and focused on the breathing, willing himself to stay present with her, here, in this moment. He managed to nod again. "Promise me, Kili. Promise me, that you will return to me."

"Inikh-de, Amralime..." he said weakly. "I promise."

Legolas saw his friend with the dwarf, and knew then that her heart was truly given to Kili. Without hesitation, he walked closer to them, knowing she would hear his soft footsteps on the snow behind her, and recognize him by the sound. She looked up at him with such sorrow in her eyes, the depths of which he could not fathom to understand. He knelt down next to her, looking at her in wonder, and out of his pack he withdrew Athelas, handing it to her solemnly, looking like he did not fully understand what was passing between her and the dwarf, but knowing that she needed to try to save him. She looked at him with such love in that moment that Legolas felt the pain of knowing she did not love him the way she loved Kili, and he averted his eyes, unsure how to process the emotions racking through him now. He watched as she gently put down Kili's arm, unwinding her fingers from his while whispering to him, so he would know she was still there. Legolas watched the young dwarf struggling to breathe, and could read the pain on his face. Kili hadn't taken his eyes from Tauriel's face, but as she started to massage the plant within the palms of her hands, mixing it with snow, the dwarf's eyes fluttered and then shut, although his breathing remained the same. Tauriel spread the mixture into his wound, reciting the healing words they had all learned while in battle training. She wasn't a healer by trade, but she knew enough to treat battle injuries, and Legolas hoped it was enough to stabilize the dwarf until he could be brought to a more skilled healer. The wound was deep, but seemed to have missed the major organs, or he wouldn't have lasted this long as it was. Legolas watched her work, and handed her what he had out of his pack - some more Athelas as needed, bandages. He joined her in her chanting, willing the forces at work in the world to hear their prayer, hoping that combined they could save him. From the corner of his eye he saw two dwarves come over the ridge and walk slowly towards them, taking in the scene. Then two more followed behind, then another three. Then there were four more, and Legolas surmised that these must be the surviving members of the company, come up from the ice below where Thorin Oakenshield had met his end. Finally Bilbo and Mithrandir arrived, and the little Hobbit broke the silence only by breaking out into sobs of his own, all the losses of the day too much for his kind heart. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Kili's breathing became less strained and more regular, and his body less tense. It looked more now like he was sleeping than fading, and Legolas turned to Tauriel, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. "Mellon nin, you have done all you can. We should get him to the camp below."

She stopped her chanting and sighed heavily, teetering a bit on her knees, looking exhausted and drained. She looked at him and nodded weakly, and he helped her up to her feet. "Hannon le, Legolas...for everything." She squeezed his hand and then turned away, making room for the dwarves to gather up their kinsman and take him down the Mountain towards the encampement below, to the healing tents. Legolas watched her go, and made way for the dwarves as well, walking slowly over to Mithrandir and the hobbit.

Bilbo spoke first, his face dirty and tear stained, his voice cracking with worry and gried. Legolas remembered Mithrandir telling him how close the hobbit had become the Thorin Oakenshield and his company, and felt a pang of pity for the gentle creature, thrust into a battle where he had lost people that he had loved. "Is he...well, is he..." Bilbo trailed off, wringing his hands and staring up at Legolas.

"He is alive." Legolas sighed, "Whether or not he can be saved has yet to be seen."

Bilbo nodded curtly. "His brother was killed by Azog earlier. And Thorin..." his voice cracked when he said the name, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "Thorin managed to kill the foul creature, but not before he...well. Not before he was injured so badly that...Oh, I do hope Kili can be saved. Thorin doesn't deserve to die knowing one of his nephews was killed and hoping the other made it, against all odds. Kili...Kili _must _live."

Legolas gave a sad smile. He understood what the Hobbit was trying to say. Mithrandir put his arms on Bilbo's shoulders. "It is out of our hands now, but if there is anything that can be done, the Elves will see to it." the wizard said, squeezing Bilbo's right shoulder in a show of support. Bilbo nodded again. "Let us get off of this accursed hill and down where there is warmth and food." the wizard said, heading for the path down from Ravenhill. Legolas and Bilbo followed, and the other dwarves were already ahead, carrying Kili between them. Legolas looked for Tauriel, but it seemed she had already left the hill herself, needing to get away from the stench of death and the offending sight of dead Orcs. He resolved to eat something, rest and regain his strength, and then see to comforting Tauriel. Although he felt the sting of watching her love go to another, he knew he also did not want to be parted from her, not yet, not while she needed him most. In all his long years he had not experience so many different emotions - but he had lived a sheltered life in the Greenwood, protected by his father against the realities of the world of mortals. Death and Love were things that he knew of but were foreign to him, and even what he felt for Tauriel had been a thing of no urgency, because he had all the time in the world, before. Now he knew that he had been living a charmed life that most in Middle Earth could never live, being mortal and living in places where evil things could befall at any time. After today, he could not go back to that life - in fact, there was no going back even if he wanted to. And he would have to confront his father about these things, too, in time. That thought left Legolas feeling cold, as he remembered his last words to his father during the battle, "_If you touch her, you will have to kill me as well_." As he stepped off of Ravenhill and headed to the tents strewn close to Erebor's gates upon the open field, he made sure to steer clear of Thranduil's pavilion, preferring to have that discussion much later, when he had time to recover from the events that had unfolded over the course of the battle.


	2. Chapter 2

Kili felt heavy, as if all of him were drowning in a sea of black. His eyes flickered open but the blackness did not change or shift - it was all encompasing - it was all there was. He looked down and could see that he was standing, he could see his hands and flexed them, touched his chest and could feel his heart beating there. But he could not see anything else, just a vast expanse of black which seemed to hold him still within it. Slowly though, as if someone were painting an image in front of him out of the ether, he saw water, dark but reflecting light, rippling with a wind he could not feel. Then there was a shore in front of the water, dark as well but clearly there was grass and plants, even trees, also moving as with a slight gentle wind. He could see rock, too, mountains perhaps, in the distance, all in shades of black and grey. Then he felt him before he saw him - he would know the feeling of his brother's presence anywhere, even here, whereever here was. "Fili!" he cried, filled with a desperate need to see his brother, but rooted to this blackness so thouroughly that he could only move his head wildly, looking around for a glimpse of golden hair, willing his feet that would not move to let him run and find him, his brother, Fi, who had been with him at every moment of his life until now. "Fi!" he cried again, the tones of his desperate need echoing in his voice. Finally he saw him, and he did not appear, he was just there, as if he had always been. He was bathed in a golden light, and Fili instinctively shielded his eyes at this affront to the total blackness. "Fi." he said in wonder. He was there, smirking, looking just as he did before he had made that foolish call to search the upper levels of Ravenhill alone, the same armour, the same daggers sheathed at his side.

"Kili." his brother said, and suddenly he was in front of him on the edge of this strange shore. He reached out and touched Kili's shoulder, put his left hand up to bring Kili's forehead to his own, and Kili reached out in unison to clasp his brother's arm, and touch his hand, and his skin felt warm as if he had been out in the sun at the noontide of the day. They stood like that for a time, foreheads together in the manner of their people, feeling the simple fact of being in each other's presence one last time. Kili felt the tears coming, but made no move to quench them and felt no shame in the nakedness of his grief. Finally Fili pulled back and looked Kili in the eyes, and there was no sorrow there in Fili's eyes, only a sort of peaceful calm.

Kili spoke then, "Fi, what is this place? Is this where-" and he cut off, unable to say out loud the words that would confirm that his brother was dead.

"I cannot say for sure, but I imagine these are the shores of Mandos, for there is a great hall behind us, carved into the mountain, with the sign of Mahal himself carved above the door. I saw the doors open when Thorin went through, and I can swear I saw halls unending, carved out of the living stone, interlaced with gems and copper and gold beyond the beauty of any seen in Middle Earth. Our Uncle beckoned me to go with him, but I couldn't enter that hall - not yet - not without knowing that you were safe." he looked at Kili strangely. "You are not yet fully here, you are lingering somewhere between life and death, it seems."

Kili blinked, absorbing this information, astounded to see with his very eyes a place that was a myth and a hope talked about among his people for when dwarves die. "I was injured on Ravenhill." he said, slowly, trying to remember. "I was fighting with Bolg and he struck me...I fell...I..." he searched his memory, it seemed foggy and far away. "I lay there for a time...Fili I saw...I saw you die." his face twisted with the painful memory of wathching his brother's body fall and land in front of him. He closed his eyes tight against the image. "I saw Thorin fall." he shook his head, the images of blood and broken bodies and death seeming to flood his whole memory now, and it felt there was no escaping that second darkness in his mind.

Fili reached out and touched his brother's arm again, and at his touch the images vanished, and Kili looked up at him, his mind clearer again. "It's all right, brother." Fili said. "Thorin has passed now into the halls of our fathers. And I'll not be far behind." he smiled comfortingly, but Kili shook his head.

"No! You can still come back, can't you? You're in between, like me, we can go back together!"

Fili smiled sadly. "No brother. There is no going back for me."

Kili's lip trembled and tears welled up again in his eyes. "I don't know how I'm supposed to go on without you there."

"But you have to go on. Thorin would want it that way." after a pause, he sighed. "_I _want it that way, too, Kili."

Kili shook his head. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be saying goodbye to his older brother. If anyone deserved to die it was him, the reckless fool, the boy who couldn't get out of trouble without the help of his brother or his Uncle, the boy who got into fights and got caught stealing the neighbor's chicken and who barely made it to the Mountain in one piece for his foolhardiness at the Woodland King's borders. As if Fili was reading his thoughts he said then, "You deserve to live, Kili. You have something left to do out there, you have a life to live, and you'll have to do it for the both of us."

"But, Fi..."

"Do you remember what else happened on that Mountain? After you were struck down? Do you remember, Ki?

Kili's mind fought to remember through the fog that seemed to cloud his memories. He saw a glimpse of an Eagle, circling above him, its great wings laying a shadow over his body. No but the shadow was closer that that. Someone was kneeling over him. Someone was touching his hand, talking to him with a sweet voice like a song..."Tauriel." he whispered.

Fili smiled. "Yes, brother. Tauriel."

Kili looked up at Fili then, a redness filling his cheeks. "But how do you-"

"Ki, I'm not stupid, you know. I ignored it when you were flirting with her in the Woodland king's halls, I dismissed it when she came crashing into Bard's house, saving us from an Orc pack, thinking, well alright, she's just come to finish them off, then. But after she stayed to heal you, and stayed again after to make sure you'd recover, and when you gave her mother's rune stone of the shores of the Long Lake, well, then I realized that it was something real."

"You never said -"

"Well of course I never _said _anything. You would have turned five shades of red and brushed it off, and with Thorin in the state he was in the mere mention of an elf maid fancying his nephew would have made him even more likely to do something rash. But I kept your secret, and I hoped, as I was being dragged to the precipice by that foul Pale Orc, I hoped that you and Thorin would run, that you would make it somewhere safe and that the she-elf would do what she had done before and what I could no longer do - that she would look out for you. That she would protect you, make sure you made it out safe." he had Kili by the shoulders now, his eyes locked onto Kili's own. "She did that, yeah? She got to you, she told you to hang on and not give up and you _listened. _She got you safe." He let go again and took a step back. "And now I need to get you back to her."

Kili's eyes searched his brother's face, deperately memorizing every edge and every contour, so he could remember him this way. "Fili..."

Fili took another step back.

"Fili!" he pleaded. "Not yet, no!"

Fili took another step back, and Kili could feel something pulling at him as well, yanking him in the direction of that wide black sea, away from the shore, and back into the blackness. "You have to go back, Ki. There is something you must do. And you must live - really _live, _Kili. Promise me."

Kili was nodding, his hand outstretched towards his brother. "Fili!"

"_Promise _me, brother!"

"I promise, Fi. I promise." he stared at the glowing image of his brother, who was getting further and further away, too quickly. "Fi, I promise." he sobbed. Just then he replayed his brother's words in his head, and a look of confusion broke onto his face. "Fi! What is it I have to do? Fi!"

But Fili was far away now, just a glow in the blackness, and Kili couldn't hear him anymore. Just before he was out of sight altogether, he could swear he saw a mischevious smile on his brother's face - and then he was gone, and the blackness enveloped him once more, and then he knew nothing, and was asleep in the void.


	3. Chapter 3

Tauriel had given herself a few moments alone, while the dwarves carried Kili down from the Mountain and settled him into a healing tent. She had undressed, wincing at aches and pains in her body she had not felt until her healing with Kili was done. She took her shaking hands and washed them clear of blood and the sticky green paste that was Athelas. She began to clean her body, discovering new hurts along the way, where an Orc blade had managed to scratch her, lightly cut her, and in one instance on her side, full on pierce her skin. It was a small wound, that, but she was still amazed that she hadn't felt it when it had happened - the adrenaline and fury and _need _to make it through the battle and get to Kili must have pushed all else from her mind. Once she had tended to her skin, bandages placed and dirt, grime and blood washed away, she slowly unbraided her hair, sitting on the edge of her cot in the small tent, her body wrapped in a white cotton sheet. Her hands and fingers had stopped shaking and she felt a sense of calm. The calm after the storm, she supposed. Undoing the final braid, she used her fingers as a makeshift comb, loosening the strands and working her hair from root to tip. Finally she got up and leaned over the bowl of water, using a small bar of soap to cleanse her hair. A few minutes later she sat on the small cot again, patting her hair dry, and finally allowed her thoughts to wander.

Now that the battle was over, the chaos of it all seemed to have spilled over into a strange kind of order, but everything felt so different to her now. She felt a hollow ache inside her heart, and a strange sense of lonliness hit her. She was an elf alone in the wide world, banished by her king, who sat now in a small tent in the midst of a battlefield, her heart given to a dwarf mortally wounded, whose life balanced on the tip of a knife, and whatsoever way his fate fell, she knew that she faced a hard and painful road ahead. She took a deep, rattling breath and shook her head, willing these dark thoughts away. She must not feel pity for herself. Kili was still here, and that was because of her. She needed to be by his side now, and let all else fall into place as it would.

Just then she heard movement outside her tent, and instictively tensed, reaching for her daggers.

"Tauriel?" It was Legolas's voice, and she stopped her hand from grasping the hilt, bringing her hand up instead to her hair, pushing it away from her face. She felt herself shaking again, and wondered when her senses would return to normal - she felt like a deer that knew it was being hunted, all of her senses alert and her body tensing at the slightest hint of a threat. She took a few deep breaths, willing herself back to calm, and stepped over to the opening flap of the tent.

She pushed the flap open just a little, and saw Legolas peering in at her. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Yes, I - I had just finished bathing."

"Ah. I figured as much, and brought you these." he held out a pile of clothing to her, and she reached her arm through the flap, grabbing them hastily, not wanting him to see her wrapped in nothing but a sheet.

"Hannon le." she said quietly, and she saw him nod, then turn and walk a few paces away and sit, apparently waiting for her. She was grateful for something else to wear, something not stained with blood and soaked with reminders of who she used to be - a Captain of the Guard, an Elf of the Greenwood. It was fitting for her to wear something different now. She was different.

Legolas waited outside the tent, feeling refreshed after his own bath and change of clothes. The sky blue and leather outfit he now wore was more comfortable and less princely than what he had been wearing when he left on this quest with Tauriel, and he felt more at home in it. He stared ahead at the rows of tents and bustle of people running about, and felt as if everything in his world was somehow wider, more complex, more significant. The sight of Men and Elves and Dwarves working side by side to feed each other, tend to the wounded, gather the dead, comfort each other - all of this was a strange thing to his eyes. The differences between the peoples were not so vast as he had been taught.

He had seen many of his own people, and knew that by now it had been reported to Thranduil that Legolas Greenleaf lived. He expected a summons soon, but hoped to avoid this for a little while longer. His eyes flickered back over to Tauriel's tent. He hoped she would come out soon, so that together they could make their way to the healing tents and look in on Kili. He wanted to be there with her, for whatever was going to happen. He still was not sure the dwarf would survive his injuries, and to hear tell the other dwarves were of like mind. Dain Ironfoot had already met with Thranduil and Bard, according to the gossip in the camp and what he had heard from his own people. He was taking up the mantle of King Under the Mountain, at least, he said, until it became known what Kili's fate would be. He supposed this made sense, as there was much to do and even if Kili survived, his recovery would be slow, and he would be in no position to make the decisions that needed to be made. It worried Legolas, however, that this Dain was so quick and eager to take up this position of power, and he made a mental note to keep an eye on Dain and his men.

He looked up as he heard Tauriel's tent flap open, and was glad to see her looking hale. She did look different, though, and he supposed it was more than just seeing her in something other than her uniform, as he was accustomed. She wore a similar style of outfit, as he knew she wasn't overfond of dresses, but the colors of this were sky blue and brown, like to what he wore but softer and edged with a delicate embroidery. He had gotten them from one of the healers who was of like height as Tauriel, and he found himself smiling at her, the red haired firebrand wearing delicate blue - it was almost funny - in a different time he might have teased her, but it didn't feel right to do that now, not with what she was facing. She caught his smile though, and returned it half heartedly - he saw that underneath she was full of worry. Standing he said to her quietly, "Let us move off, before my father catches up to me." He led her to the edge of the camp, along where the forest began to spring up. They walked silently, and avoided especially other elves, and the nearer they drew to the gates of Erebor the more tense Tauriel became. He could see it in the way she held her shoulders, and how her hands were tightened into fists at her side. Before they cleared the forest altogether, Legolas reached out for her hand, saying softly, "Wait, Tauriel."

She stopped abruptly, but allowed him to keep his hand entwined with her's, and he led her a little further into the wood, stopping at a felled tree where he let go of her hand and motioned for her to sit. "Please, just a moment, Tauriel." She hesitated, but then nodded and sat. Legolas sat next to her, his eyes on the ground. He gathered himself for a few moments, wanting what he said to be exactly what he meant. These kinds of conversations weren't easy for him - he supposed he was more used to ignoring difficult subjects than broaching them, something he had learned from his father and king. Finally he looked at Tauriel, and let the words tumble out as they would.

"I came on this journey with you out of love -"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held his hand up, "Mellon, I know that your love lies with the dwarf," and he took her hand again, holding it gently in his own and smiling sadly, "and my heart has accepted that."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she smiled wanly, "I will always care for you, mellon."

"And I, you." he sighed. "This journey has changed me. I have seen things as they are for the peoples of Middle Earth and I am troubled by the shadow that lies over these lands." his eyes looked out of the forest towards the tents and the people that laboured there. Tauriel followed his gaze with her eyes. "Those people are not so different from us, and yet they are less hearty, more prone to hurt and despair and ruin - they are mortal." At this Tauriel's eyes returned to Legolas's. He looked back at her. "I do not know what Kili's fate will be. It is out of our hands. But I worry for your fate, and I would do what I can to help you, while I can."

"You are worried that if he dies, I will succomb to grief, and fade away." she whispered.

Legolas's eyes shot to the ground, not wanting Tauriel to see the tears that had sprung up behind them. He nodded roughly, tightening his grip on her hand.

"Legolas," she said, and moved closer to him, taking her free hand and forcing his chin up, so that he was looking at her, and she saw the sorrow there. He shook his head, willing himself to hold in the tears. She allowed him this moment, to gather himself.

Finally he looked at her again. "And if he lives, whatever life you have with him will seem too short to you, for he will grow old, and one day die, and in death our races are seperated, even until the Dagor Dagorath itself." he paused a moment, then said gravely, "Whatsoever unfolds, all roads for you lead to grief, in the end."

Tauriel held her composure, but inside she felt a piercing dagger of grief, as if by Legolas speaking aloud what she had already considered, he had written her fate as a doom, a foretelling of what must come to pass. She felt herself nodding. She knew she was squeezing his hand too tight. She saw the worry on his face, the love, the sorrow and pity. But she could not change her heart. This was her doom, and she would accept it, or else be overcome by it anyway, in time. Better to accept it now, and not let it rule her while Kili's days lasted - if they lasted at all, which had yet to be seen.

Finally she spoke. "I know, Legolas. But I cannot change the direction of my heart, as you well know. All I can tell you now, at this moment, is that I will accept your help and your friendship, and I am grateful for it, beyond what I can express. I admit I was feeling...alone. But I know now that is not true."

She stood and he followed suit, and they held each other by the forearms, smiling sadly, two old friends holding on to each other amidst a world turned upside down. Legolas was the first to speak. "Let us go then, and look in on Kili. We can talk more of this later." He walked toward the encampment, out of the wood, and Tauriel slowly followed, knowing that what he really meant was that they would talk again once they knew whether or not Kili was going to live. She shuddered, and told herself to take deep breaths and remember that she had made Kili promise to return to her. She hoped he could keep his promise.


	4. Chapter 4

Dwalin sat in a stiff wooden chair, next to the cot where the boy lay. He had helped Balin strip off Kili's clothing, and had supervised, hovering as the she-elf healer had gone to work on him, cleansing, bandaging, saying her chants in her native tongue. He didn't want to trust her, he didn't want her touching the boy, but he was silent, letting her do what she would, because there was nothing _he_ could do. Dwalin was still wearing the same clothes he had been wearing during the battle, blood stained and dirty. His axe was leaning against the chair, at his side, in a position where he could easily grab it and use it to defend Kili, if the need came. He wasn't willing to dismiss that possibiity - not today - not after everything he'd lost. He wasn't going to leave Kili's side. He sat there, staring straight ahead, not allowing himself to feel the grief of his losses yet. Not yet. He needed to be strong for Kili. Balin had left him there earlier, finally accepting that Dwalin wasn't going to move from that spot. He had brought him some food, some ale, but it sat cold and untouched on the table. Dwalin couldn't bring himself to eat, to drink, to do anytihng but stand vigil. He needed to do this. He needed to see this boy pull through.

There was a soft moan then, and his eyes darted to Kili. The boy had done this, every now and again, seeming to shift in his fever sleep, shaking his head, mumbling, but nothing Dwalin could make out. He watched him for a while, to see if the boy might be heading towards concisousness, but the episode passed and then Kili was silent and still once more. He was pale, his skin sheened with sweat, and the only indication that indeed he was alive was the small but steady rise and fall of his chest. Looking down at him Dwalin felt waves of sorrow. He looked so young, still. He could remember the lad running to and fro when Dis had brought the boys to visit, causing trouble wherever he went. Over his lifetime he'd probably yelled at Kili more than anybody he'd ever known, the foolish child going around, stealing his knives, playing practical jokes with his food pantry, stealing the neighbor's chickens. What he wouldn't give to be able to scold the boy now, tousle his hair and knock foreheads over an ale. Oh and Fili, that boy, now _he_ would only get into trouble when he followed behind Kili in some hairbrained scheme, or got tangled in it trying to get Kili out of whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into - Fili - well, he was a good lad. They were both good, strong dwarven men. They were too young for this. Dwalin shook his head, squeezed his hand into a fist and closed his eyes hard, willing himself not to give in to these emotions. He had seen that boy die. Mercilessly. Murdered, he was. Not given a proper chance to fight. Damn that foul orc!

Thoughts of the orc led unwillingly to thoughts of Thorin. By the time he had made his way to him, it had been too late. He had found Bilbo there, sobbing. Thorin's eyes were open, the last thing he must have seen were the eagles in the sky and the last thing he heard must have been Mr. Baggins' voice. He was glad for that. But, oh, that he could have said goodbye to his king. To his...friend. Thorin had won the mountain, he had defended the mountain, and he had paid for it with his blood and the blood of his family. Dwalin wasn't going to let Dain forget that.

Suddenly there was movement outside the tent, and he slowly moved his hands towards his axe, preparing for the worst. The flap opened, and he saw it was the male elf and the she-elf, the red-haired lass who had been with Kili on the mountain. They looked at him, and he looked at them, and they all looked towards the axe he had in his hand. He almost didn't remember gripping it and jumping up into a defensive stance - he was running on instinct and adrenaline and hope alone. He cleared his throat and lowered the axe slowly. "Can't be too careful." he said, gruffly, jerking his head towards the cot, "Come in, I ain't gonna cut ya."

The two elves looked wary, but entered nonetheless. The blonde one spoke first. "I am Leglas Greenleaf. We have met, but I am afraid not properly."

Dwalin huffed. "Yes, taking us prisoner isn't exactly proper, by Dwarven reckoning, anyway."

"Nor by elven, I assure you." the elf stepped forward and put his hand over his heart, then gestured out toward Dwalin. He recognized this as their greeting of respect and nodded in answer.

"Dwalin, son of Fundin." he said. Then he looked to the she-elf, whose eyes were resting on Kili, worry clear within them. Legolas lightly touched the she-elf's arm, and she started, then looked to Dwalin.

"I am sorry, master Dwalin. I hadn't seen Kili since the mountain and - and he is so pale." she glanced at Kili again, then back to Dwalin, stepping closer towards him, making the same gesture of greeting Legolas had made. "My name is Tauriel."

He surveyed her, confused about her concern over the boy. He knew she had saved him, up on the mountain, and he heard tell from his brother and some of the company that Kili and the she-elf had some kind of...bond. Some kind of friendship. It was strange to him, this warmness between an elf and a dwarf, but he knew full well she was the only reason one of the line of Durin still lived. He was grateful to her for that - more grateful than he could let her know in words. To lose Thorin, to lose Fili, and then to have climbed Ravenhill to find young Kili at the edge of death - it was too much. He let out a sigh, then cleared his throat. "Aye," he nodded at her. "I have heard what you did for him on the mountain and I...I thank ya." he said brusquely, willing himself to hold in the pain, swallow the sob that wanted to escape from his throat.

"He was yet alive when I found him. I simply did what I could to keep him that way." she smiled sadly. "I would like to sit with him...if you don't mind."

He looked at her for a few moments, then nodded. "Of course." What did he mind? She could sit as long as she liked, but he wasn't going anywhere. Not until the lad woke up. Woke up, or...he didn't want to think about the alternative. He knew it was possible, but he couldn't let himself think about it, or he would not be able to hold himself together. He lowered himself back into the chair and watched the she-elf.

Tauriel went around the cot, to Kili's left side, so she was mirrored to where Dwalin sat. She stood over the boy, looking down at him, and she gently moved a few pieces of wild hair from his brow, then tenderly stroked his cheek. "He is fevered." she whispered.

"Aye." Dwalin responded. "He's been running warm now for about an hour. The healer said she hopes to see it break by nightfall."

Tauriel nodded. She sank into the chair, then reached out and touched Kili's hand, holding it delicately, as if she were afraid he might break at any moment. For all they knew, he might. Dwalin was disconcerted by the physical closeness of the two, finding it altogether too intimate, but said nothing. Now was not the time to protest about strange friendships. As long as she was here to help and not to hinder, he wouldn't stand in her way. Elves were strange creatures anyhow, maybe to them this kind of intimacy was standard, something that they didn't even think about. There was a world of difference between their two cultures, after all. Legolas was near to Tauriel's shoulder, standing on the far side of the tent, seeming about as uncomfortable with all the touching as Dwalin felt, by the look on his face. Did that mean it wasn't normal for her to be touching his hand like that? Dwalin wondered, and his eyes moved back and forth between them. He had the feeling he was missing something, here.

They remainted in the tent in silence for some time, the only sound Kili's occasional murmering and the soft but steady sound of him breathing. It seemed that their entire world had shrunk to encompass only this tent and Kili's body - their whole existance orbiting around the steady rise and fall of his chest, confirming that he yet lived and that he yet fought for his life. After some time, the she-elf healer returned to check on her patient. As she entered Dwalin tensed again, his right hand on the axe until he was sure it was friend and not foe. Legolas and Tauriel said something to the elf in their own language and she nodded to them silently. The dark haired elf healer walked over to the left side of Kili's bed, and Dwalin watched her as she checked his pulse and counted the beats of his heart. She nodded slightly to herself, a sign as he took it that she was satisfied with what she found. She rolled up the sleeves of her grey dress, and prepared a cloth in the basin of clean water beside the bed.

"How long do you think this fever will last, Nimrodel?" Tauriel asked.

The healer went to work preparing Athelas in a mortor, mixing it with some herbs she had brought with her, as well as strange powders. As she worked she answered, "I hope to see it break within the hour. I will re-dress the wound, and then check back after sunset."

Tauriel nodded, looking forlornly at Kili's face. "Inikh-de, Amralime." she whispered.

Dwalin was shocked to hear Khuzdul words leave the elf's lips. He felt his mouth hanging open and quickly shut it. He stared at Tauriel. _Amralime? _Was this elf _in love _with Kili? That certainly explained a few things...but he had never heard of such an attraction before. Nimrodel was almost finished with the dressing now, and moved to the water basin to wash her hands. Dwalin struggled to keep his racing thoughts to himself. Part of him wanted to laugh - of all the dwarves he had ever known, it would be strange, reckless, flirtatious Kili who would fall in love with an elf. If Thorin had been here he would have erupted in rage - a son of Durin with an _elf!_ He could almost hear the lecture Thorin would give the boy, of bloodlines and history, and at the end of it all full-on threats of thrashings and jailing. And then, finally, vowing to tell the boy's mother, Dis, of his stupid, impossible infatuation!

But it wasn't impossible, was it? Tauriel had spoken words of love in the Dwarven tongue. She had risked her life time and again to save the boy. She sat with him now, at the edge of death, and willed him to live. Dwalin couldn't say it didn't all seem strange and a little bit wrong to him - but right now, well, right now he hoped whatever bond they shared would work to bring Kili back to this world, back to the living.

Nimrodel turned to face them, wiping her hands on the apron covering the front of her dress. "I have done what I can for now. My lord Legolas, I will return within the hour to check on the dwarf again." Legolas nodded.

Tauriel said softly, "Hannon le."

Nimrodel glanced at her swiftly, then put her hand to her heart and gestured outwards toward Tauriel. With that she strode out of the tent, and the three of them were alone once more, each returned to their own thoughts, each focused on Kili in their own way.

Some time passed, and Dwalin felt himself dozing in his chair. Every once in a while his bearded chin would touch his chest and he would start, shake his head and fight the urge to sleep again. The two elves were stoic as stone, Tauriel's hand in Kili's, staring down lovingly at his face. Legolas stood at the back of the tent, like a soldier on watch, eyes straight ahead. Dwalin expected there were many thoughts racing within the elf prince, not least of which having to do with the strange relationship of his friend and young Kili. In this, they had something in common, at least. Dwalin silently cursed the stamina of elves, not seeming to ever give in to weariness, as he stifled a yawn.

Kili stirred again, mumbling, and Dwalin looked up, saw the boy shaking his head as if he was saying "no" to something, or someone. Tauriel leaned forward in her chair, whispering something to the boy, and Dwalin leaned forward in his chair, hoping the boy would break through his delirium. Moments later, though, Kili was still and silent again, and Dwalin slowly leaned back, sighing.

He felt himself nodding off again when suddenly Kili was yelling. Dwalin started and practically jumped out of his chair, until he was right next to the boy, his large hands gripping the edge of the thin mattress.

"Fi!" Kili was yelling, his eyes still closed. "Fili!"

Dwalin choked back tears, and put his right hand on the boy's chest. "Kili, we're here lad, wake up, open your eyes, boy!"

Tauriel was standing now, she had jumped back from the bed a few paces and stood, clasping her hands together in front of her as if in prayer, her eyes wide. Legolas was at her side, touching her arm lightly to steady her. "Kili?" she whispered.

Dwalin lightly shook the boy, trying to drag him out of whatever nightmare he was having, or re-living, he thought darkly. "Kili!" he cried, "Wake up! You're safe, lad, we're here! Wake up!"

"Fili! Fi-" the boy's eyes shot open and he looked around wildly, his chest heaving as if he had been running. His eyes finally focused on Dwalin leaning over him, and they softened a bit in recognition. "Dwalin?" he said weakly.

Tears streamed down Dwalin's face. He nodded slowly, smiling so big his face hurt. "Kili, my boy. You have no idea how good it is to see you awake." Kili struggled to sit up, and Dwalin helped him sit up in the bed, then touched his shoulders, bringing the boy's forehead in to touch his own.

"Dwalin...I...I was somewhere...else. Somewhere, beyond." he whispered.

"Aye. But you came back, my boy. You came back." Dwalin lifted his head, leaning back a bit, to get a good look at Kili. "I thought I'd lose you, too. I couldn't bear it."

Confusion filled Kili's face, and Dwalin's heart sank. Did he not remember? Did he not know Fili and Thorin hadn't made it through the battle? He shouldn't have said anything - stupid, stupid! Kili's face changed from confusion to grief, his bottom lip trembling, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. Dwalin felt himself crumbling again. "Lad..." he began.

"Thorin. And...and Fili." Kili said, his voice flat and distant. Dwalin could only nod his head. Kili nodded in response, the tears leaking down his face. He leaned back against the wall behind the cot, his eyes moving from Dwalin to the ceiling above. He sniffled, then turned his head, looking to his left. His eyes went wide when he saw _her_ staring back at him, a sad smile on her face. "Tauriel." the way he said her name - his voice softened, in awe and sadness.

She stepped closer to the bed. "Yes," she nodded. "I am here, meleth nin."

He reached out his hand towards her, and she came closer again, entwining her hand with his, her other hand reaching out and tentatively stroking his cheek. Dwalin watched as they gazed at one another, their eyes seeing only each other, and he felt then that his watch was done. He was heavy and tired with grief. Kili was safe now. He looked up past the two lovers and his eyes locked with Legolas's, who had stepped back out of the way a few moments ago. He gave a terse nod, and closed the distance between them, whispering as he passed Dwalin, "Time to go, Master Dwarf." Then he was gone, the flap of the tent swaying behind him. Dwalin turned silently and grabbed his axe, then headed out of the tent. As he stepped into the night he looked up at the stars, thanking Mahal that there would be one less grave in Erebor.


	5. Chapter 5

Legolas walked briskly through the camp, hearing the sounds of life around him but feeling as if he were underwater, everything drifting and floating around him while he struggled to stay afloat. He had thought he had prepared himself for this outcome - for the dwarf to awaken and Tauriel to be reunited with him - but he did not anticipate how much it would hurt to be a witness to a love he would never have. He of course did not wish to see Kili die - and not only for what it would do to Tauriel, but because he grudgingly admired the young dwarf and would grieve to see yet another life lost to the mindless hatred of the evil of the Orcs. However, in that moment in which Kili and Tauriel's eyes met, he knew his life was changed in yet another way. For hundreds of years his life had been a constant, solid thing in which his purpose and his desires were clear, but now, after defying his father and being thrust into a reality of Middle Earth he had not realized existed, he felt uncertain as to his path, for the first time that he could remember in all his long years. And now, he knew that Tauriel's fate lay on yet a different road, and he realized that wherever his destiny was headed, it was away from her, and at this he grieved. He grieved for the love he had felt for her and that was not returned, but more than that he grieved for the friendship that would be forever changed and the uncertain futures that they both faced.

"My lord Legolas!" a voice cried, somewhere to his left. Legolas halted, looking up to see Feren, one of his father's men, striding towards him. Legolas halted and sighed. He was not of a mind to speak with his father yet, not with his emotions raging and his thoughts in a tumble. But he knew there would be no delaying this summons - he had been lucky to avoid his father's men until now.

"I take it the King is requesting to see me." he said, aware of the tension in his voice.

Feren put his hand to his chest and extended it out towards Legolas, in their traditional greeting, then bowed slightly. "Yes, my lord. He is most anxious to speak with you, and to see you well after such a desperate battle."

Legolas returned the greeting, saying gruffly, "Lead on." Feren turned and Legolas followed, trying to order his thoughts as they went.

As they neared Thranduil's pavilion, there were less men and dwarves and more of his own people about, and he nodded in greeting to those who called his name as he passed by. There was word in the camp, of course, that he was well after the battle, but many had not seen him for a full day, as he had spent most of his time in the healing tent with Tauriel and Kili. Thranduil's tent was hard to miss, a large white structure in the midst of the green and brown smaller tents of his kin, surrounded by the more heavily armed personal guards of the King. Feren stopped just outside the entrance, and gestured for Legolas to enter. Legolas nodded, and taking a deep breath stepped into the tent.

The air inside the spacious tent was sweet with the smell of lavender, and Legolas's sharp eyes could see the tendrils of incense smoke curling up from the long oak table near the center of the room. The floor was covered in lush furs, and the entirety of the tent was bathed in a warm light from candles lit and placed strategically throughout to provide illumination in all parts of the room. Thranduil sat in an ornate wooden chair on top of comfortable maroon cushions, wearing silver robes that seemed to glow in the candlelight. A thin silver circlet was on his forehead, with a white gem in the center, the stone of which matched the rings on his fingers and the filigreed clasp at his clavicle, where the silver of the robes met with two bold lines of dark forest green. He looked every inch the Elven King, and Legolas knew he had worn this regal attire to underscore his position while negotiating and treating with Dain, the new King Under the Mountain. He had heard in the camp that the two leaders, along with Bard of the now destroyed Lake Town, had been in council most of the day.

As Legolas entered Thranduil stood gracefully. "Legolas." he said, and there was deep emotion in his voice, something that took Leglas aback so much he stopped where he stood and stared. Thranduil closed the gap between them and took his son by the shoulders, looking at him with what Legolas could see was relief, and a distant sadness.

Legolas broke eye contact, unnerved by this openess that he had not seen in his father for countless years. He cleared his throat, then tentatively grasped his father's forearms, bringing his eyes back to meet his, saying, "Ada. I am glad to see you well."

Thranduil's eyes searched his own, and the two stood like that for a moment, closer to each other than they had been in ages. Finally Thranduil dropped his arms to his side. "Come sit with me. There is much we need to discuss." He turned to the large table and reached for a flagon of wine and two silver glasses, pouring the deep red wine and gesturing for Legolas to sit in the chair across from his, then taking his seat up again.

Legolas sat, taking a sip of the wine, and savored its sweet, crisp flavor on his lips. He had almost forgotten to eat and drink in his concern for Tauriel and Kili, and his body welcomed the cool liquid that warmed his belly and relaxed his tangled nerves. He took another long sip and then held the cup loosly in both hands, leaning forward in the chair and waiting for Thranduil to speak.

Thranduil took a slow sip, then began. "There have been tales floating around this camp about your battle with Bolg on Ravenhill." Thranduil was looking at Legolas intently, but his face and his voice were softened, almost gentle. "I must confess, I have been replaying our last encounter in my mind over and over again, regretting the harshness of my words to Tauriel. As the battle drew to a close I knew not whether you would make it down from that hill and I -" his voice cracked and he lowered his head, dropping his eyes to the floor as if he could not bear to look at Legolas while he continued, "I felt ashamed that my last action was one which shamed you."

Legolas sat still and stilent as stone, amazed at this vulnerability and honesty. Thranduil looked up again, his eyes betraying tears held back. He took a deep breath. "There are many things I never told you. About my experiences at the battles of The Last Alliance and the Battle at Gundabad. About...your mother."

"My mother?" Legolas sat up straighter. Thranduil never spoke of her. There was little he knew about her, besides that her hair was golden as the sun on a cloudless day, and that she played the harp, and sang beneath the Greenwood, and the people loved her.

Thranduil nodded. "There are few things harder in this world for an elf, than to lose the person that they love." he took a long sip from his cup, then paused, seeming to gather himself. He looked to Legolas again, intently. "I buried my memories and my love for her so deep, that I could not talk about it even with you, her child. You know full well that often when one of our kind loses the one they are pledged to, they can fade...essentially die of grief, not being able to bear being parted from their love. I feared this. I feared it because she loved you so much, Legolas," he reached out and touched Legolas's hand, "More than _life._"

Legolas felt all of the emotions he had been holding back come flooding to the forefont, and squeezed his father's hand as he fought to stem the tears he felt welling up in his eyes. Thranduil squeezed back, then let go, continuing. "I had to keep my grief for her locked away somewhere inside of me, along with all of my memories of her, so that I could stay here in Middle Earth and raise you, see you grow, keep you safe in the Greenwood. I knew of no other way to keep myself from fading. However, I did not realize just how much of myself I had locked away with her...until that moment when I found myself holding a sword to Tauriel's throat..." he trailed off, took another sip and cleared his throat. "I was so angry...there was so much senseless death...so many of our kin lying upon the ground, snowflakes falling onto bodies emptied of their life..." he voice cracked again and this time Legolas saw the tears. "All I wanted in that moment was to get my people away from that accursed mountain and back home." he sighed. "But Tauriel was right. Leaving the Men and Dwarves was as good as condemning them to die, and though they be mortal, their lives are _not _any less important. I had forgotten that...and it took the risk of losing my son for me to see it."

Tentatively, Legolas began, "Thank you...for telling me this."

Thranduil nodded slowly. "I only hope you can forgive me for my words and actions."

Legolas nodded. "Ada...I never knew...I had always seen you as so strong, I did not know that you were at risk of..fading."

Thranduil smiled sadly. "Love is a strange thing. Its roots are deep, and it binds you, long after you are parted, for a short time or...forever. Elves feel it deeper than the other races, and that is our blessing and our curse. You will know of what I speak, someday. If you do not already."

Legolas looked at his father strangly. "What do you mean?"

"I have seen how you look at Tauriel. I have been aware for some time that she interested you."

Legolas felt as if someone had hit him in the chest - a sudden lack of air to his lungs, the reminder that he still nursed a wound of a love unreturned. He smiled sadly. "You have seen also how she fought for the dwarf. It is to him that her love is given, now."

Thranduil nodded slowly. "I am sorry."

Legolas only smiled again, taking a sip from his cup of wine, then finding it almost gone, he drained the rest.

"Has the dwarf awakened?" Thranduil asked, as he finished his own cup of wine, and rose to refill it from the flagon on the table.

"He has."

Thranduil brought the flagon to Legolas, who outstetched his hand and allowed his father to fill his cup again. "I will speak with her in the morning. I owe her an apology as well, and I would let her know she still has a home in my kingdom, if she wants it."

Legolas nodded. "I worry for her."

Thranduil placed the flagon back upon the table and returned to his seat. "It is an unusual thing. There have been unions of mortals and immortals before, as you know, but not of this nature. It will be hard for them. Yet, he came so close to death and returned from it, and because of that I think there is some force guiding them. Perhaps their union is meant to happen, for some reason I cannot foresee." He looked at his son thoughtfully. "You will be alright?"

Legolas was silent a moment, thinking. "I do not think I am at risk to fade, if that is what you mean. We were only ever friends, and although I love her, and I grieve what might have been, I do not feel her loss in that way."

"How do you feel?"

"I feel...adrift." Legolas said, glad to be able to put into words what had been burdening him. "I feel as though the whole world has just been revealed to me, and it is larger and more complex than I had understood, and I feel...I feel there is a darkness threatening it. I do not know my destiny. I feel like I am alone amidst a forest whose paths I do not know."

Thranduil sighed. "I had protected you from this...all your life. I should have known I could not do so forever."

"Father, what is this darkness that I feel ever present on the edge of my perception?"

Thranduil looked sternly at his son. "It is the evil that Morgoth spread into the world, ages ago, in the darkness. It lives on, in every orc and foul thing. Sauron's spirit endures, we know this, and he would see that evil take root again, and spread." He sighed. "It is a matter of time, which we as elves know, stretches on..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "My father fought against it. Your mother. Our people, when I led them back from The Last Alliance, were much reduced in number when we returned. It is a cycle, and I have grown weary of it. It will be a happy day when I can lead this company back to the Greewood again. I hope to be able to do this in the coming days, after Thorin Oakenshield and his kin are laid to rest."

Legolas absorbed this. "Ada...I do not think I can go back."

Thranduil was finishing the second cup of wine now, and he lowered his eyes as he lowered the cup from his lips. "Where will you go?"

"I do not know..."

"Go north. Find the Dunedain. There's a young ranger amongst them. You should meet him. His father Arathorn was a good man. His son might grow to be a great one. I percieve that you feel you must fight the darkness that you sense is growing, and the young ranger's fate is caught up in this. It may be that with him, you find the path you seek."

"What is his name?"

"In the north he is known as Strider. His true name, you must discover for yourself."

Legolas stood, and made the gesture of his people towards his father. "Hannon le, ada."

Thranduil nodded. "You have much to think on, and are still weary and weakened from the battle. Go and find yourself food and rest. Feren will see to your needs. And Legolas," he stood, and made the gesture of his people, "I am proud of you." he gave a small smile.

Legolas felt a rush of emotion, but compsosed himself and nodded slightly, before turning and exiting the tent back into the starlit night. His head was light from the strong wine, and for the first time since the battle, he really felt hopeful.


	6. Chapter 6

"Tauriel..." he said, looking into her eyes filled with tears and marvelling that she was really here, at his bedside. That she had been here, waiting for him to wake up. She was smiling now, and when she smiled two little lines formed at the sides of her eyes, brightening her whole face with a glow of warmth and happiness. He heard the soft shuffle of the tent flap closing, and knew the others had left them alone to have this moment privately.

She was holding his hand, but when she heard the tent flap close she reached up to touch his cheek, and then she was leaning in, so close to his face he could smell the floral scent of soap on her hair, and he closed his eyes as her lips brushed his own, lightly at first, tentative. He responded, pushing back against her lips lightly, then moving his hands to cup her face, kissing her while caressing her smooth skin, moving his fingers over the points of her ears. A moment later she pulled back, and they both opened their eyes and looked at one another, both of their faces striped with tears.

"Amralime." she whispered, and his heart leapt at the word. He had said that to her on the shores of the Long Lake, where he made his promise, but she had been unable to say how_ she _felt. He thought he knew, and he remembered her saying 'meleth nin' as he lay on the mountain, but it wasn't the same as hearing the word in his own tongue.

He smiled. "I finally got you to say it."

She nodded, smiling sadly. "I've repeated it in my head so many times...that word, the way you said it, the way you looked at me. I regretted so much not telling you that day...I feared I would never get the chance..." she trailed off. "But you came back to me."

He nodded. He could feel his wound now, and there was a throbbing, pulsing pain that seemed to eminate from the bandages on his chest all the way up to his sternum. He winced, and immedietely her face became masked with worry. "You are in pain." she said, not a question, a fact.

He nodded again, controlling his breathing. "I'll - I'll be alright." he said weakly.

She shook her head. "Damn the stubborness of dwarves!" she cursed, then walked briskly over to the front of the tent, sticking her head out of the flap and yelling something in Elvish. She strolled back in and then was back at his side, cursing him and caressing him at the same time. He nearly laughed, but suppressed it to a chuckle, and even that hurt so much it quickly turned into another wince of pain and a sharp intake of breath.

"Don't laugh! Don't try to do anything right now, except breathe." she scolded.

Through the pain, he smiled. "You're more like a dwarrowdam than you know, Tauriel, between your cursing and your scolding."

She smiled thinly. "It's my job to keep you safe, now. Just because you're no longer unconcious doesn't mean you're out of danger yet. I don't want to lose you again." she sighed. He could see the worry on her face and the fear. He understood. He reached out for her hand and touched it lightly, and she turned her hand over, palm up, making it easier for him to twine his fingers with her's.

"I'm safe, Tauriel. I promise I'm not going anywhere."

She gave him a sad smile.

Just then the tent flap opened and a tall, dark haired she-elf entered the room, smiling when she saw her patient awake.

"Mae govannen, young prince." she said, as she reached out and touched the back of her hand to his forehead.

Kili smiled. "Are you the healer, then?" he asked.

She nodded, and before he knew it she was touching his eyelids, holding them open as a bright light seemed to radiate from her. "Look straight ahead, please." she said. He obeyed, squinting a bit in the sudden brightness. She was chanting, and she removed her hands from his face then reached for his wrist, pressing down on the veins there. She looked as if she were listening for something, and that bright light was still around her. After a few moments she nodded to herself, then went to work on his bandages, and during that uncomfortable and painful few minutes he stared straight at the ceiling, breathing through the pain and holding on to Tauriel's hand a little too tight.

After a few minutes, the light left the room, and the healer said, "Master dwarf, my work here is done for the time being."

He breathed out a long breath, then met her eyes. "Thank you." he said, inflicting the weight of his emotion into the word.

She smiled, then turned to Tauriel. "Tauriel, agorel vae. Give him some tea mixed with Arenlaith and Telcallon, for the pain. The dressings should be a simple thing, for you now. He no longer needs to be healed with skills such as mine. His body will take care of the rest." she paused and tilted her head, smiling again. "He is out of danger."

Tauriel smiled, getting up and putting her hand to her chest, giving the she-elf their greeting of respect. She said, "Hannon le. Nîn velui a lalaith veren nalú en-agovaded vín."

The she-elf gave her the same gesture in response, and then was gone.

"What did you say to her?" Kili asked.

"I thanked her and wished her well. Her name is Nimrodel. She was very attentive and...understanding. I am grateful." Tauriel turned and began making the tea, putting a kettle on the small fire that was buring in the corner of the tent.

Kili breathed in and out. The pain was more bearable now. But there was something else...He began to recognize that beneath the physical pain of the wound there was a hollow ache that was constant. He knew then that this was the place where Fili was supposed to be. Fili, who had always been connected to him. But he was ripped away from him now, taken, _gone_ \- and this...this hollow ache...was what was left. His eyes moved around the room as he blinked back tears. He squeezed his hand into a fist. Fili...and Thorin. The two most important men in his life. He almost couldn't imagine how to live his life without them - Thorin had been his guide, he had emulated him, followed him, obeyed him. Fili was his constant. Always with him, there to solve the problem or get them out of trouble. It was as if pieces of himself were gone with them - how would he be whole again? How could he_ live _while they, at this very moment, lay somewhere on cold slabs of stone?

He sensed her at his side then, and looked at her, forcing a sad smile onto his face, knowing she would see the wells of tears in his eyes. She looked worried. She sat on the edge of the small bed, a hot cup of tea in her hands. "Meleth nin..." she began.

He shook his head, knowing the tears were falling now. "I'm alright." he breathed, accepting the cup from her as she stared at his face, sympathy in her eyes. He took a sip of the stuff. It was hot and sweet, like berries and honey. He had expected something foul, but he should have known that even the elves' medicine would be sweet and beautiful. He downed the whole cup, glad of the warmth spreading throughout his body. It seemed to be calming him, too. He felt a weight shift away, and the hollow ache seemed more distant, less raw and exposed. "You elves know how to make your medicine." he said slowly.

Tauriel smiled. "It is strong, but it will keep the pain at bay and help you heal." She moved closer to him, took her hand and gently moved the wandering pieces of hair from his forehead.

He watched her, and it still felt like a dream. "When will this start to feel real?" he asked her.

"It_ is _real." she said simply.

"It is as if I wandered into someone else's life. A dwarf in a fairy story. The one who wins the battle, and marries the princess, and lives happily ever after."

"Well, I am sorry to dissapoint, but I am_ not _a princess." she smiled.

"You are to me. The Princess of Starlight and Arrows." he smiled languidly, reaching out to touch her ear with his hand. She put her hand on his where it cupped her face, her ear, and leaned into the carress.

"Kili..." she whispered.

He was feeling tired now, and his whole body felt weightless and relaxed. His thoughts had slowly dropped away, one by one, so there was just this one thing - this one person - on his mind. He said quietly, "Come, lay here with me. Let us dream of starlight together."

She smiled. He was sitting up in the bed still, so she gently took the pillow from behind his head, and slid him down, then repositioned his head on the pillow so he was laying there, on his back, facing the ceiling of the tent. She kicked off her boots, then climbed onto the small cot, her slender form just fitting beside the stocky dwarf. He had pants on but his chest was bare, covered only by the bandages under his ribs. She took care not to touch him there, and snaked her body gently so that it touched his, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. She laid her head on his chest right beneath his shoulder, and her left hand touched his chest, holding him close. She enjoyed the feel of her fingers against the hair on his chest - it was strange to her still, and exciting. Elf men did not have such hair. She sighed and smiled against his flesh, silently thankful for his life, for this moment, and for all the moments she hoped were yet to come.

Kili was in a haze now, and felt like cursing the tea. He wanted to stay awake with her, he wanted to tell her all about himself, all about how much he loved her, but he couldn't even keep his eyes open. He felt her body against his and basked in the warmth of it. It felt like home. He reached for her hand that was stroking his chest, and held it. He mumbled to her, "Amralime...menu tessu...Men eleneku menu o bepap opetu ezirak..."

She giggled, a sound like little bells on a summer day. "I do not know what that means."

He smiled, moving his head just enough to lightly kiss her forehead where it rested on his shoulder, his eyes still closed. "It means I love you." he said.

She sighed, and he felt her breath against his chest. He shivered, feeling that the warmth in his body wasn't just from the tea anymore. "And I, you." she said breathlessly.

He could not fight this tiredness. He was drifting into sleep, he knew, any minute now. "Rest, Amralime. Sleep. I will be here in the morning. I will be here..." he yawned. "...every morning." he let out a deep sigh. He felt her smile, and then the edges of his consciousness turned to grey, then black, and then he slept and knew no more.

Tauriel shifted slightly against Kili, and blinked against the daylight shining in the slats of the tent. It was morning. She was somewhat suprised to find she had slept through the night - she had not slept that long in some time. Her body must have needed more refueling than she had felt at the time. She looked up at Kili's face, peaceful and sweet, in sleep. She felt the steady and strong rise and fall of his chest, and was gladdened his breathing was so certain and strong. He truly was healing. She lay there, still, appreciating this moment. They had come so close to losing each other - she understood what he meant by it feeling more like a dream than reality. They were lucky.

She moved slowly, not wanting to wake him yet. His body needed to heal, and she would give him whatever time he needed. Slowly, she uncoiled herself from him, tensing a bit as he shifted in his sleep, but he did not wake. Finally she stood, her bare feet touching the soft furs covering the ground of the tent. She headed over to the fire, cold now, and began to put new logs and branches in the stone circle, finding a flint and lighting it, using her breath to coax the fire to full strenghth. When it was ready she brought over new water to boil. He would need more of the tea when he awoke. The pain would be ever present as he healed, and he needed to work through it. As she mixed the leaves and powders she made sure not to make it as strong as before, or he would be out again before he was fully awake. She hoped she was making a dose that would treat the pain without making him so drowsy he could not function. When she thought she had it right, she brought the mixture in a mortor to the fire, and sat in front of it, waiting for the water to come to a boil.

He shifted across the room on the cot, and she could sense him coming to concsiousness. Their connection was stronger now, she could tell. Soon he would sense her as she could sense him. This was often the case with Elves who were pledged to one another, and the bond deepened over time, especially once they were married. She blushed slightly at the prospect. She had not considered such things for herself, before. Even when she had thought of Legolas as a potential partner, she had not really thought it this far through. She was glad to see that even thought their races were different, their bond seemed much the same as she had seen and heard of amongst those married of her kind. It bode well for their future.

Kili sat himself up in the cot, blinking in the daylight. She was glad to see he had the strength to do so today, where yesterday he had needed help to move even that much. He looked around, catching her eye across the tent. He smiled at her. "Good morning." he said.

"Good morning. You look well. How do you feel?" she asked, concerned that there might be some pain he was not outwardly showing.

"Fine," he said, shrugging. "The pain is there, but it is lessened. It is not bothersome yet, unless I move too much." he shifted in the cot, wincing a bit.

"I am already making the tea." she caught his look of exasperation and stopped him before he could complain. "I am making it less strong - I promise."

"Well alright then. I just don't want to spend all my day in a haze or asleep." he winced again.

"You are hurting. Lie still. It will be ready soon."

"Aye. It's not just the wound anymore." he said softly.

She stood up, leaving the water still heating on the fire and walking over to him. "What do you mean?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

He sighed, looking down at his hands where they picked at the edges of the light blanket she had put on him in the night. "There is a...hollow ache...a place within me where the hurt of my grief lies." he almost whispered then, "Fili...and Thorin."

Tauriel could hear the depths of sadness in his voice, and through her connection with him she could sense of what he spoke...a hole, a place empty where before had been full. "I sense of what you speak...your bond with your brother must have been very strong, to leave a scar like that upon you."

He looked at her in wonder. "You can _feel _it?" he asked, "How?"

She smiled sadly. "Amongst my people, there are different kinds of bonds. The bond we share is a connection of spirit, which we call _fea, _and body. There are things I can sense in you, whether you are near or far. It will be the same for you, soon."

He stared at her. "That's...amazing."

She smiled, touching his hand lightly. "I will help you bear this pain. But it will never wholly leave you." her smile faded as she touched her hand to his chest, over his heart. "Wounds of the heart are always too deep."

He nodded. "S'alright." he said, taking a deep breath. "Right now it feels like someone chopped an arm off or something - like they just took a piece of me away. We were always close, always together. You know sometimes, it was like we knew what the other one was thinking, without having to say anything out loud." he sighed again, taking her hand in his and following the lines on her palm as he spoke. "But I think that in time...I'll be glad for that bit of pain...because it will always remind me of how special our bond was...of how much he was a part of me...and the worst thing I can imagine - worse than any pain or loss - is the forgetting." There were a few tears now, flowing quietly down his face. "I'm so afraid of forgetting his face. I'm afraid of the day where I will turn around to tell you something, and not immedietely think to tell him next."

Tauriel touched her hand to his cheek, so he would look at her. She said quietly, "You will never forget, meleth nin...I will not let you."

He smiled then, full of sadness, but a smile nonetheless. He took her hand from his cheek and brought it to his lips, kissing it. "I do not deserve you." he said.

She moved in closer to him then, whispering, "Ae ú-esteliach nad, estelio han. Estelio ammen...I will be with you, forever." Then she kissed him, and he kissed her back, softly but firmly, his need for her clear in how he held her to him, running his hands through her hair.

As they parted he drew her forehead to his, in the gesture of love and respect of his people, and they smiled at each other. He whispered, "Menu tessu, Amralime."

The high squeal of the water done boiling in the teapot broke their reverie, and she moved away from him, squeezing his hand before she left the cot. She could hear him sigh as she busied herself making the tea, and felt a wave of sorrow in pity of the grief he would have to endure. She was sure that she would have the same feelings if something were to happen to Legolas, and could not imagine the pain.

She brought him the cup and watched him sip, her thoughts wandering as she remembered his brother, the young blonde dwarf who was fond of blades. She had last seen him alive on the shores of the Long Lake.

A shadow appeared at the front of the tent, and a male voice cleared his throat. "Tauriel?" the voice asked tepidly.

"Come in." she said, as she stood up from the cot and placed her hands behind her back. She knew it was one of her own people, and felt it best to present herself composed, and not too close to Kili. She wasn't sure how people might respond to their relationship.

The flap opened, and she at once recognized Feren, one of the King's personal guards and servant. She bowed slightly, greeting him. "Mae govannen."

He did the same. "Mae govannen, Tauriel. Manen le?"

"I am well, Feren. Hannon le."

He nodded, and smiled slightly. "That is well. Word has spread that the young prince has broken his fever. There are many happy dwarves out there, Master Kili." he turned slightly towards where Kili lay on the cot, greeting him.

Kili looked suprised, then smiled sheepishly. "Aye, well. My kin will find anything to celebrate."

Feren laughed, then said, "And there has been much of that going on overnight. I daresay most of the dwarves are still recovering from their night of revelry." he turned then to Tauriel, saying more seriously, "Tauriel, the king requests your presence in the pavilion."

She took a sharp breath. Their last meeting had not been a pretty one. She wondered what she now faced, on top of banishment. But, there was no ignoring this. She sighed. "I will come with you." Kili started in the bed, and she said quickly to him, "I will hurry back."

He looked at her, and she knew he sensed her fear. She looked at Feren. "May we have a moment? I will be right outside."

Feren looked confused, looking from her to Kili, but then nodded, and walked back outside the tent the way he came. Tauriel went to Kili's side,saying to him in a low voice, as she put on her boots, "I must see Thranduil. If I look afraid, it's because the last time I saw him I held a bow and arrow his direction and told him he was not allowed to flee the battle and leave the rest of you to die."

Kili's face was in shock, and then he burst out laughing. "Are you serious?" he exclaimed.

"Yes!" she hissed, leaning down to tie the laces of her boots.

"You are spitfire and grace, Tauriel. It's no wonder I can't take my eyes off of you. You're just as much of a trouble maker as I am!" he was smiling so broadly she felt herself smiling too, despite her nervousness. "You don't think he'll have you locked up or anything, do you?" he said, he smile suddenly turned to worry.

She sobered a bit, but still smiled, "I do not think so...though I honestly do not know. I was banished from the Greenwood for disobeying him, I do not know what he will do for my actions in Dale." her smile faded now. "It will be alright." she promised him. They had returned to each other through dragon fire and battle - she was not going to let any elf stand between them now - even if he was an elf King. She gave him a quick kiss, then headed to the exit. Before she walked through she said again to him, "I'll be back as soon as I can." And then she stepped into the daylight of the camp, motioning to Feren to lead on, and praying silently to Elbereth Gilthoniel that Thranduil would be merciful, if not kind.


	7. Chapter 7

Kili could hear the sounds of life out in the camp from his cot. He sat sipping the elven brew, letting its warmth work its way through him and dull the pain. With his free hand, he tentatively touched the bandages below his rib cage, marvelling that he had really survived this wound. His eyes lingered on the spot where Bolg's spike had pierced him and he shut them slowly, thinking not of that moment, but instead of the moment Azog had stabbed his brother through. He must have felt the same pain Kili did. Kili had not seen it...he had been on the bottom level. He had heard the words of Azog, in his foul Orc tongue. "_This one dies first..."_ He shivered. The hollow ache inside him felt so near. Unwillingly, behind his closed eyes, he saw Fili fall, and winced there in the cot, remembering Fili's empty eyes staring up at the sky and the heavy thud of his body hitting the ground.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh, tears welled up in his eyes again. He shook his head and threw his head back as he finished the tea, slamming the empty cup down and willing himself to hold it together. He remembered bits and pieces of being on the other side...that place somewhere between life and death. He remembered Fili's face, and how peaceful he had looked. That was the image he had to keep in his mind, now. That was the real Fili. Not the empty body that now lay in Erebor, being prepared for burial. He still didn't know how he was going to be able to face the task of burying Fili and Thorin. He didn't want to look upon them in death. He didn't want to see them because he knew it would make him feel guilty - guilty for making it down from that mountain. He should have died there with them. Wouldn't it have been better that way? Sometimes he felt it would have. It would have been...easier. But it wouldn't have been better - not for _her. _And not for his mother. Kili was now the only member of her family who still lived. Her_ only _son, now. And Tauriel - she had risked so much for him. What would it have done to her, an elf, if he had died? Would she have died too, or sailed into The West, to bear away her grief far from Middle Earth?

Suddenly the confines of the tent felt suffocating. He tested his strength, slowly inching his body to the edge of the cot. He moved his legs, swinging them over the edge so they were hanging over the side. Not so hard, that. Now...if he could just lower his foot to the ground, see if he could bear weight...

He slowly stepped down, holding tight to the edge of the mattress. His knees were shaking. He managed to put his full weight on his right foot, but he could tell his balance wouldn't be very good - if he could just reach the table next to the bed, he could hold on - he shifted his weight to his left leg - and then suddenly the pain of the arrow wound had him gasping, and he collapsed to the floor, dragging with him the blanket from the bed and landing in a tangle on the furs on the floor. He grimaced in pain and held his leg, laying there in a heap and feeling as useless as a toddler, and on the verge of tears like one too. If Tauriel were here she'd give him a proper thrashing, probably cursing at him in three languages. The thought made him laugh, but the laughing soon turned to sobbing, and his body shook as he cried, all the emotions of what he had gone through finally spilling out in this moment of weakness and helplessness.

He didn't know how long he laid there crying like he hadn't cried since he was a boy, but when it was over he rolled over and sat himself up against the table beside the bed. He felt drained. He felt empty. He wanted more than anything to get up and leave this tent and go running to a quiet place somewhere, alone. He hung his head. Suddenly there were voices outside the tent, arguing, growing closer.

"_No_, you stupid git, I'm going in there!" said a youthful voice that to Kili sounded familiar.

"What if the boy doesn't want to see your ugly face while he's lying in there wrapped in bangages and half struck dumb by Elvish medicine?" said the other voice.

"Well I don't care what he _wants _I'm going to see him!" said the other again defiantly, and the flap burst open, sunlight streaming into the tent. The voices stopped then, and for a moment there was silence.

"Well where did he go?" said the one.

"Couldn'a _run off _now could he? Move over!" said the other.

Around the bed came Bofur, Kili recognized him instantly by his hat, and momentarily the only thought in his head was how in the world he had kept that hat on and intact through the entire battle.

Bofur's face broke into a huge grin when he saw Kili on the floor, and Kili looked up at him weakly, a small smirk appearing on his face despite the dark feelings still whirling about inside of him. "Kili my boy!" Bofur cried, throwing his arms up dramatically. Then he leaned in a bit and said, his eyes wide, "Now why'dya want to be on the floor like that? You know you're a _prince _now, and that means you can't be slinking about like a ruffian."

Suddenly Bofur was pushed forward so that he nearly fell, and from behind him appeared young Ori, yelling out in surprise at seeing Kili on the ground, wrapped in blankets, looking altogether a mess. "Kili!" he squeaked.

Kili nodded in greeting at them and then gestured to the floor, saying, "Well,these furs are more comfortable than some of the places Thorin had us sleeping over the past few months."

Bofur laughed out loud then, slapping his knee, and Ori chuckled. "Let us help ya up, boy." Bofur said, and the two dwarves took to either side of him and lifted him under his shoulders, helping him to the larger wooden chairs around the table at the center of the tent. "Are you sure you shouldn't be back in that bed?" Bofur asked as he settled him into the chair.

Kili shook his head, leaning back into the chair and wincing. "No. I've been in that bed too much. Let me sit here, at least I get a different view of the tent, if I can't go outside it yet." He sighed, looking at his two companions, and they looked at him with worry, he could tell, but there were smiles on their faces. "Good to see you both." Kili said, and meant it. He hadn't given any thought to the rest of the company, and felt momentarily guilty at that. "The rest of the company...they're alright?" he asked, hoping and needing the answer was yes.

"Aye," said Bofur, nodding his head. "Bruises and scratches and not a few concussions, but alive, all."

Ori nodded emphatically. "All fine, Kili. Really."

Kili nodded. "Good. That's good."

Bofur fumbled with the edges of his hat, and Ori twisted and wrung his hands as they stood there in front of Kili. Finally he sighed. "I'm alright!" he said, "Really! I'm just feeling weak is all. I haven't been concious a full day yet and from what they tell me I lost a lot of blood." He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable at all the attention. "Just need to rebuild my strength is all." The two dwarves looked at him curiously, still standing. "You two are making me _really_ uncomforable, sit down, will you!"

Bofur and Ori looked at each other and then took seats in the other chairs, next to where Kili sat at the head of the table. Bofur smiled. "It's just good to see you awake and talkin', like your old self." he said.

Kili looked down. He didn't feel like his old self. He shifted again in the chair, uncomfortable again. "Heard the dwarves of the camp had a bit of a party last night." he said.

Ori grinned. "A big celebtration, that. Drinkin' and singing songs. Word spread you were off of death's door, and, well, that was the best news for us. There were great big songs sung for Thorin and Fili and -" Ori cut off then as Bofur elbowed him in the side, and then got a look on his face like he had said something embarassing, and looked everywhere around the tent except at Kili.

Kili sighed. "It's alright," he said softly. "Fili would have loved having songs sung about him."

Bofur and Ori both looked at him, sad smiles on their faces. "Aye." Bofur said. "All the lasses will be cryin' about him - the young prince of Erebor, valiantly defending the mountain, cut down in battle. He'd have loved to have seen the lasses reaction to that, I wager."

Kili smiled a little. "Aye." Then he had to ask, because he wanted to know how much time he had. "When..." he cleared his throat, controlling his emotions. "When will they bury them?" he looked up at Bofur.

Bofur looked at Ori, then back to Kili. "By sunset tommorow they say the stone will be ready for them. Two graves of stone, in the Halls of the Kings, deep inside Erebor, where foul Smaug never was able to fit his massive, stinkin' tail." he paused, leaning forward in his chair. "It's an honorable resting place, lad. Side by side they'll be." he reached out and put a firm grip on Kili's shoulder, looking at him in pity of the grief.

Kili held the tears in, nodded at Bofur. "A burial worthy of the King Under the Mountain, and his prince." he whispered.

Ori and Bofur nodded again. There was a heavy silence in the tent. Bofur pulled back, smacking his knee, and said lightly, "Now, what we need to get you is some proper dwarven food in here, if you're to be strong enough to walk by tomorrow evening. I'll bet if them elves try to feed you, it'll be something _green._" he said the last word with distaste and Ori made a face.

Kili couldn't say he felt all that hungry, but Bofur was right. There was no way he was going to let anyone carry him or drag him up to Erebor, so he would have to eat something, and gain his strength. "Proper dwarven food sounds great." he forced a smile.

Ori stood up, clearly happy at the prospect of eating. "I know where they've got some fresh summer sausage, some turkey legs and bread and even gravy. Dain had a troupe a day behind him, with supplies, they've come in now, up in Dale. We'll bring you a proper feast!" he said, hurrying to the front of the tent. Before he left he said nervously, "I'm glad you're okay, Kili." and then fidgeted with his hands, waiting for Bofur as he made his way past Kili.

Kili smiled, "You too, Ori." he looked up at Bofur, who smiled sadly.

"We'll get through this, my boy." Bofur said quietly, and Kili nodded. Then the two left, already arguing while still within earshot of the tent, something about the quality of sausages from the Iron Hills. Kili shook his head, smiling a bit, glad to know some things were still the same.

Tauriel was staring at Thranduil's back, Feren having left her just inside the pavilion, afer announcing her arrival to the King, who had simply said, "Leave us." He was pouring a glass of wine, and hadn't said anything to her as of yet. She held her hands straight at her side, as if she were at attention, and willed herself to breathe regularly, keep herself calm. She needed her wits about her for this encounter.

The tall elven king finally turned to face her, eyes locked on her's, his expression unreadable. "I am glad to see you well, Tauriel." he said quietly.

Tauriel nodded. "Hannon le, my lord."

Thranduil motioned to two seats at the large and ornate wooden table in the center of the room, gesturing for her to sit. He lowered himself into a chair gracefully and watched her as she took her seat. He held out a cup of wine to her, that she hadn't noticed him preparing in her nervousness. She accepted, bowing her head slightly again in thanks. The air in the room felt suffocating, but she knew it was her body betraying her, her fears and worry making her tense, and focused on controlling her breathing, needing to keep control.

Thranduil cocked his head to the side, studying her. Finally, after what seemed like many long moments of silence, he spoke, again softly, but with clear emotion smoldering underneath the words. "I owe you...an apology." he started, and Tauriel's head snapped up, her eyes widened - she had served this elf for centuries and had never seen him humble himself like this before. He smiled sadly. "I have seen much battle and death in my lifetime, and I am afraid it has left its mark on me..." suddenly he turned his face to her, closing his eyes and leaning in, and she saw there on his flawless skin a sudden change, the flesh on the left side becoming red and damaged...his left eye white and pale, seeing nothing - as if he had been burned...

She gasped. She could not help it.

Just like that, his face had returned to its normal pristine form, and his eyes looked at her, and in them was grief. "I have faced the great serpents of the North. I have seen Elven kingdoms far greater than the Woodland Realm, than Lothlorien, fall. I have led armies to war, and been witness to the deaths of great elven heroes. I have led those armies back from war, at a quarter of their size. I have lost those closest to me. Even one..." he paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep sighing breath, "even one whom I loved." He looked back up at her, and she could swear behind those blue piercing eyes there was the hint of tears. "I tell you this, not to excuse my actions and my words, but to hope to make you understand that for me, war is a thing of horror closer to my heart than anyone would ever wish it. It has...damaged me." He leaned back, taking a deep sip from his glass of wine.

Tauriel stared at him. "My King...I..." she could not think what to say. She had long served him, respected him, despite his apparent coldness. She knew somewhat of the histories, of the death of his father at The Last Alliance, but she never stopped to think that those very experiences could have been what shaped him into the cold and isolationist leader she had known. It was a revelation to see the heart - the heart she had accused him of not having - so clearly there, and so exposed.

He flashed his sad smile again. "I summoned you here to apologize for the harsh words I spoke to you. For banishing you from your home. For breaking your bow and threatening you. When you and Legolas went up to Ravenhill and risked all, for dwarves you barely knew - I worried for your lives. But it also awakened something in me I had forgotten. There is an Enemy out there that is a servant of pure darkness, and if I were to turn my army around and abandon the Men and Dwarves to his scourge of Orc filth, I might as well join him in spirit- for to cause the suffering and death of others is his only goal, and it would have been what my leaving would have achieved. Your words and your defiance and the actions that you and Legolas took on that day reminded me of what kind of King I want to be. I stayed and we aided in the defense of Dale, ere the Eagles came to turn to the tide. I only regret that I did not send any of our people to aid you on the hill. Perhaps if I did, this Kili's brother and Uncle would still be alive." he bowed his head, and swirled the wine in his cup, lost in his own thought.

Tauriel reached out, slowly, carefully. She had never touched Thranduil before. She lay her hand on his where it rested on his knee, and he looked up at her. "My King...I fear Thorin's fate was written upon Ravenhill, and that there was none in Middle Earth who could have saved him. And Fili...Fili was already dead by the time we had made our way there. There was nothing you could have done." He met her eyes, seeking the truth of this there. He nodded slightly. "I have heard tale of the prowess of our kin in defending the women and children of Dale, and I am proud of that."

She removed her hand, and took a deep sip of the wine, the strangeness of this conversation still making her feel off balance and uncomfortable. Thranduil had practically raised her, but she had never felt warmth from him. This concern over her safety...over the safety of others not of Elvenkind...it moved her. Perhaps she did not know how much she had thought of him as a father until this moment, when his affections were clear and unguarded. He was allowing her to get close to him.

"I thank you for those words. It seems I needed to hear them more than I knew." he took another sip from his cup.

"I am thankful that you have placed such trust in me, to confess your feelings and...and your past." Tauriel said, slowly. "I have always admired your leadership in your keeping of our realm. It just seems that now...events of the world have changed the way we must keep our realm safe, and that includes new, strong relationships with the Men of Dale and the Dwarves of Erebor."

Thranduil nodded. "Very wise." he sighed. "I would do what I can to keep our people from further war. What must be done now are the building of friendships. Bard from Dale has been a worthy ally thus far. This _Dain_, however, will be a more delicate matter, involving politics and tact...of which I have little patience, with dwarves such as he." his face dropped into a frown, his frustration clear. "I understand there is little love between his people and ours, and he has been very fond of calling me _woodland sprite_ at every chance he gets - but I must find a way to smooth relations, despite what it does to my pride."

Tauriel stifled a smile. She could not imagine Thranduil's face at being called that! "Perhaps a delegate, someone without your...history...with dwarves, to east the relations?" she asked tentatively.

Thranduil laughed. "Yes, he does keep reminding me that I threw a King and his heirs into my dungeons, as well. Unfortunately, I cannot pass this matter over to Legolas, as he has another path to walk." Tauriel started at this. What did he mean by that? Before she could ask, he turned to her, and said quietly, "My son has spoken to me of your feelings for this...young dwarf prince...Kili?"

Tauriel's mouth dropped open. She hadn't expected him to bring up Kili. She feared his disapproval, the way he would look at her for being attracted to a _dwarf. _In his anger during the battle he had mocked her attraction for him, telling her it was not love. She shifted in her chair nervously, anger and doubt swirling within her. She knew what she felt, and she would defend it. "My lord," she began, but he interruped her.

"Tauriel, I will not shame you in this." he leaned forward now, looking at her earnestly. "It is a strange thing, and many may say...unnatural...but I do not doubt the strength of your bond. And I do not presume to know all ends." he stared at her intensely now, and Tauriel felt her heart beating hard in her chest. "For all I've been told, the boy was close to death. So close, his _fea _left his body for some time."

Tauriel gasped. She had not known that. "The healer never said -"

"I gave Nimrodel instructions. She was to do her best to heal the dwarf, and tell you as little as possible as she did so. She reported to me all that she discovered."

Tauriel gulped and nodded. She should have known the fate of the dwarf Prince would have come to the ears of the King. "Why keep this information from me? What does it mean? she asked.

Thranduil finished the wine in his cup, and set the elegant silver goblet upon the table. "You were in a state of shock and grief. Even before I confirmed from Legolas that your feelings were returned by the dwarf, I knew you were at risk of fading. I only wanted you to know what Nimrodel was doing and the basic things, like Kili's fever and the state of his wound. To give you more information about his _fea _at the time would have been...overwhelming." Tauriel nodded her head and sipped her wine, waiting for him to continue. "Nimrodel could feel him...feel his _fea _and its strength or weakness. That is part of what healers do. She came to me at one point during the night and told me that when she had checked him his _fea _was gone." Thranduil continued softly, "That is often a precursor to death."

Tauriel unwillingly put her hand to her mouth, in horror of how close Kili had actually been to leaving her forever. "But...but he came back." she stammered.

"Yes." he said the word with deep emotion, and a small smile. "I believe he crossed over to Valinor, briefly. Maybe even glimpsed its shores, and the Hall of Aule where it is said the dwarves go to rest."

Tauriel marvelled at this revelation. He had seen the Western Lands over the Sea? Suddenly she remembered the tale of Beren and Luthein, that she had told Kili so long ago on the shores of the Long Lake. When the two lovers had both died during their great quest, they had gone to Valinor. Beren had tarried on the Outer Shores where Men go, before they move on to whatever destiny awaited them after death. Luthien had cried at the feet of Mandos himself, and her song so moved him that he went to Manwe and he sought counsel with Iluvatar, the One, who gave Luthien two choices. She could either return with Beren back to Middle Earth and live a mortal life with him, or remain in Valimar to dwell with all the other Elves beyond the Sea, until the world's ending. She had chosen Beren, and mortality, and was sent back to Middle Earth with him. Had Kili been given a similar choice? "The Valar...?" she whispered, looking at Thranduil in wonder.

"I cannot say. But my heart tells me there is purpose in his return, and a destiny that has not little to do with you." He smiled warmly. "I cannot say your path will be an easy one, but I can see that the both of you have been set upon it together, and that there is a meaning there none can glean as yet." he leaned forward again, taking her hand gently. "Tauriel, you have my blessing in this."

She felt something shift within herself, some long lost thing that she had buried since her own parents had been killed all those centuries ago, when she was just an elfling. She realized she was crying. She felt...joy in the acceptance Thranduil offered her. She felt...loved. She smiled at him, and put her hand to her heart, bowing slightly in her chair. She put her empty goblet on the table, and Thranduil, still with his hand in her's, helped her rise. He put both his hands on her shoulders where they stood now, facing each other. Then he took a step back, putting his hand to his chest and bowing deeply to her.

"Hannon le." she whispered, and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"I would ask you one thing before you take your leave." he said, his head cocked to the side the way it did when he was thinking.

"Yes, my lord?"

"I would have you consider an offer of a new position under my rule. No longer Captain of the Guard, but Ambassador of Mirkwood to Erebor."

Tauriel nearly gasped again, and looked at him wide eyed. Then she smiled. "I would be honored, my lord." She bowed again, and then, just before she stepped out of the tent, she turned and said, "Guren linna le, Thranduil." She left him smiling behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

Kili was laughing in earnest now, and had to hold his side where the wound ached. "...This laughing...can't be good...for the healing, Balin." he choked out, trying to ignore the pain. Balin's eyebrows shot up, and a small frown appeared on his kindly face. "Sorry, laddie. But it is good to see that smile on ya."

Kili nodded, his smile fading somewhat, but feeling much lighter than he had before these few members of the company came to visit, bringing him food and ale as he hadn't seen since Beorn's house. There was Balin and Dwalin, telling him tales of squabbles among Dain's folk. Bofur and Ori, encouraging him to eat. Nori had made him really laugh when he told him how, through his sneaking and spying, he had somehow overheard Dain call Thranduil, to his face, a _woodland sprite_. "One day you'll have to tell me how you "overheard" the conversations of kings in private meetings, Nori." he smirked.

Nori shrugged his shoulders innocently, his arms crossed, and flashed a wicked grin. "A master doesn't reveal his secrets, my lad."

Kili laughed again, and winced. Balin and Dwalin were immedietely up and around him, offering water and looking at him like he was about to fall apart. He waved his arms at them. "You two are worse than a couple of old dwarrowdams, fussing over her child. I'm _fine._" he exclaimed.

Dwalin shook his head. "You're not off death's door a full twenty-four hours and you want to tell us not to worry! I'd slap you upside the head if I wasn't so sure it would knock you back to unconciousness, and I don't need to be sitting here any longer listening to you snoring and mumbling in your sleep, that's for sure."

Kili grumbled under his breath but held his tongue. He knew all the members of their company were hurting. They had lost friends. They had lost their _king. _He had to be gentle with them, let them fuss a little, if it helped. "Where are the others, anyway? Gloin and Oin, Bifur, Bombur, Dori?"

Bofur began, "Well, they all wanted to see you, my boy, but Oin advised not overwhelming you. A few at a time, as it were. Oin is being kept busy in the healing tents, actually seemin' to enjoy spending time with them elves, learning a bit, I'd say."

Balin continued, "Aye. And Bombur has been put to work in the kitchens, of course, in charge of keeping all these armies and refugees fed. 'Tis not a small task at hand. And I know I've seen Bifur here and there, tinkering with toys and making the children laugh."

Dwalin snorted. "And of course Dori's been holed up in Erebor, out of his wits with all the crafting rooms and gems. Word is he's trying to get them up and running, even now. And Gloin has been at_ Dain's _side, assisting with the, well, the counting of things. There's a might bit of gold to be sorted and divied out, and you can bet that's what Thranduil, Bard and Dain have been discussing for hours on end."

Dwalin's face turned into a scowl when he said Dain's name, and Kili finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been lingering at the back of his mind. As he picked at his plate, he asked carefully, being sure to make it sound like simple curiosity, "So Dain is performing well in his duties as King Under the Mountain?" he kept his eyes on his food, very deliberately taking small bites of the chicken, only glancing up a few heartbeats later.

Balin was looking nervous, and Dwalin's face turned red, his stance more frigid. Balin finally said, "He has been declared _temporary _King Under the Mountain, as your fate hung in the balance and there was work to be done. My boy..." he hesitated, glancing around the room and catching the eyes of the other dwarfs gathered around the table. He leaned in, his hand on the tabletop, gesturing as he spoke. "We know it will take time for you to heal. But your claim to the throne is stronger than Dain's, and there is talk in the camp of a sort of...referendum...to see whom the gathered peoples of Durin would call King." He looked Kili in the eyes then, emphasizing, "We all stand behind you, my boy. You have the blood of Durin's folk, and Thorin and Dis raised you well."

Kili gulped, his mouth suddenly dry. He didn't really know how to feel about this, and the idea of being King Under the Mountain wrenched at his heart - he had never thought to have to worry about this moment - surely Thorin would be King, and Fili his heir, to follow him? But that was all changed now, in one broad stroke of tragedy. His heart sunk, and he felt the creeping despair that had taken hold of him earlier. How could he do any of this alone?

Balin shifted in his chair when Kili said nothing. Then he spoke again, more lightly this time, no doubt in his wisdom guessing at what the boy must be feeling. "My lad, there is much that needs to be done before this matter is settled. You have time to...think on things. And we have time to come up with a plan. Nothing official will happen until our scattered peoples return to Erebor, and the repairs that have begun are well under way. Only then will the issue be brought before the Council. For now...there are other matters at hand."

Kili let out a soft sigh. At least there was time. But again the darkness weighed on him as he knew these other matters involved the funerals of his brother and his Uncle. He was suddenly cold, and not at all hungry anymore. He looked up at his brethren, glad of their love for him, but tiring all the same. He forced himself to smile up at the company. "Well...I am glad of Dain's eagerness to sit in meetings with elven kings and direct repairs. Sound like _mighty _exciting work, and I surely wouldn't have the energy for all that...talking." he smirked, and Dwalin and Bofur laughed.

"Aye!" Bofur cried. "I might need to pair up with Nori next time he's accidentally hearin' things he shouldn't, just to get a peek at how excited old Dain looks while poring over contracts and arguing with elves!"

"Would love to get a glimpse of those two old enemies playing at civility under these suffocating tents!" said Ori, smiling broadly. "Wonder how long into it before Dain starts in with that _woodland sprite_ business." he said, seriously, his face dropping into a look of deep thought. The whole company burst out laughing at that, and Kili slapped the table with his hand, momentarily pulled out of his sadness again.

Suddenly he realized the laughter had ceased, and he looked over to see the company's eyes all at the head of the tent. Kili couldn't exactly turn himself around in the chair, so he said in exasperation, "Well, what is it? Someone here?"

Balin turned his head and looked at Kili like he felt sorry for him. "It's what appears to be a very angry she-elf, my boy, staring right at your back."

Kili's face dropped. She was going to _kill_ him for getting himself out of bed! And laughing and joking around with the company - and drinking ale! He tried to think how he could hide that fact, but came up empty. He gulped, a look of helplessness on his face, and then the entire company laughed again, slapping his back as they passed him towards the exit of the tent, Bofur winking at him and Ori giving an apologetic smile.

Tauriel's voice was sharp and clear, but with a hint of teasing in it. She declared loudly, "Any dwarf who doesn't want to get their ears boxed would be wise to exit this _healing tent_ -" she said the words slowly and deliberately - "right now."

Kili was shocked not to hear a word of objection, especially as an elf had just threatened a group of dwarven warriors, but then he remembered that things had changed quite a bit since the battle. The company in all likelihood held Tauriel in reverence for saving his life, and in any case their relations with the elves of the camp were much more civil since they had fought side by side against a common enemy. It was amazing how fast change can come in the world, he marvelled.

"Lass, be gentle with him." he heard Dwalin say before he exited. "We just got him fixed up, and I dunna want to see him broken again so soon."

Tauriel quickly replied, "I'll not be too harsh with him, but he will get a talking to about getting up and out of bed on his own. And ale! Now_ that _I blame on you, Master Dwalin."

Dwalin turned red and huffed. "I...uh...well, I have important business...elsewhere." he stammered, and ducked out of the tent.

Kili nearly laughed again at hearing tough old Dwalin so flustered, but then he heard Tauriel coming up behind him and winced, fully expecting the light slap on the back of his head when it came.

"Hey!" Kili protested, his face in a grimace, even though Tauriel knew she hadn't hit him hard enough for it to hurt. He was putting on his charms for her, but that wasn't going to save him from this talking to, not when he put himself in danger so recklessly.

She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips, her lips tight as she practically growled at him. "What were you thinking!" she cried.

"It was good to get some proper food in me, you have to agree." he said, changing the subject.

"I'm not talking about the food, and you know it. The ale is hardly the thing you need for healing, but it shouldn't hurt you. The thing that bothers me is that I _know _you, and so I know that when you got out of that bed, you did it alone." she stopped and stared hard now, driving home her point. "You could have hurt yourself, made the wound worse, or broken something! What were you thinking!?"

Kili turned a light shade of red. She was getting to him, then, and her guess had been right. He shifted in the chair, clearly uncomfortable. "I just felt...shut in, is all. A bit...suffocating in here."

The miserable look on his face made her heart melt, and she softened and sighed. "You could do with a bath, and some fresh air."

He looked up hopefully, grinning at her. "Bath?" He had a mischevious look on his face.

She blushed. "I'll help you to the bathing tents. After that you're on your own." she said, pointedly.

He grinned. She came closer to him, and gently put her arm around him, sliding her's underneath his shoulder. "Slowly, now." she said, her breath close to his face, and she very aware of their closeness. She pushed her feelings down - her job was to keep him safe, and flirting with him wasn't going to help with that, not right now. "Keep your weight on your good leg as much as you can. There you go."

They were standing now, her back arched over so she could help him walk, stooped down to his height. They went a few steps, and didn't falter. "This isn't too bad." he breathed.

"No, we should make it to the tents in no time. Off we go."

They slowly made their way out of the tent, into the daylight outside. Kili blinked in the sunlight, surveying the camp as they walked, letting Tauriel guide him. So many tents, as far as the eye could see. And Erebor, so close, yet so far for him, up the hill. He could clearly see the gates, and dwarves, men and elves working there to repair them. Still a strange sight to his eyes, but a comforting one.

They headed towards a dark green tent with an elvish guard posted outside. Tauriel smiled at the guard. "Mae govannen, Ailenil. This is Prince Kili."

Kili nodded up at the guard, breathing a bit heavily. The pain in his side was starting to ache, and the idea of warm water awaiting him was making him anxious. He probably smelled of sweat and grime, and momentarily reddened at the thought of Tauriel laying next to him overnight - had she thought it off putting? He hadn't had a thought towards that before, but then again, he had a lot to process. His mind wandered as Tauriel said a few words to the guard, but then a shock of pain had him inhaling sharply, and it drew her attention. "I'm fine." he assured her, putting on one of his smiles, but she looked at him with worry.

"Let's get you inside." she said, leading him. The guard stepped out of their way, but Kili caught the way she stared at them as they entered the tent. He supposed he would have to get used to that - people of every race would find their closeness strange, even if they didn't know how the two felt about each other.

Inside the tent there was steam, and a large tub waiting. He paused, and Tauriel stiffened. "Shall I help you...undress?" she asked, nervously.

He sighed. He didn't want their first glimpses of each other to be like this, with him weak and helpless. There was a small stool next to the tub. He shook his head. "No...just help me up on that stool and I can maneuver from there." At her harsh look he said confidently, "I'll be careful. It will be easy to slide myself into the tub once I...well...once I get my trousers off." he blushed, feeling like a hapless young dwarf flirting for the first time.

She nodded reluctantly, and helped him onto the stool, which only took a moment. "I'll be right outside." she said, before reaching for his cheek and touching it tenderly. "I'll make you some tea, you'll need another draught or the pain will worsen. Then, there is somewhere I want to take you. Not too far off, but quiet."

He looked at her lovingly. She somehow knew he needed silence and solitude. Perhaps it was the bond she had spoken of, the way she could sense him. He smiled. "Thank you." he said, putting the weight of his heart behind the words. He reached over and touched the hand at his cheek, bringing it to his lips and kissing it tenderly. She smiled back at him and then turned around, exiting the way they had come.

It took him but a moment to loosen his trousers and wiggle his way out of them, catching them just before they slid to the floor. He laid them carefully on the edge of the tub, and then swung his legs around, letting them enter the warm water first. Carefully, using the little strength in his arms that he had, he lowered the rest of his body into the tub and sighed audibly, feeling all the aching muscles in his body relax and the spot where his wound lie, covered in layers of some kind of elven fabric, somehow soften, the pain lessening every second.

Twenty minutes later, Kili had unstopped the bottom of the tub, and let the water drain out slowly. He reached for the scrap of towel hanging on the side and dried himself, roughing up his hair and imagining what a mess he must look. But at least he didn't smell anymore, he thought, encouragingly. He reached for the trousers and slid them on, still sitting in the tub, and then called out for Tauriel. She was there within moments, and carried with her a pile of new clothes. "Here, put these on while I fetch your tea."

Just like that she was gone again, and he struggled to get changed in the large tub, pushing back feelings of embarassment for being so in need of her help. He knew he was lucky to be alive, and bit back the feelings of guilt and grief that always accompanied that thought. She was soon back with elven bandages and salves in her hands, and silently changed his dressing before he put on his shirt. He caught the way her eyes lingered on the muscles of his chest and arms, and smiled a bit, basking in the attraction between them and savoring her touch as she gently wrapped the bandages firmly in place.

She grinned at him, biting her lip in a way that stirred him. "Put on your shirt, already." she teased, and he shot her a mischevious grin as he obliged. She leaned in to help him up, and he struggled but finally got back to his feet, letting her help him but a little back onto the edge of the tub so he could lift himself back up to the stool. It was markedly easier this time around, and he knew the bath had been good for his muscles. Finally back on the chair, she thrust a mug of tea at him. "Drink." she ordered, and he took the tea and downed it swiftly, not wanting to wait for the pain to find him again. She left the cup on a small table in the corner, and then helped ease him down to the floor, and they walked as they did earlier, with her arm under his shoulder, and him carefully placing weight on his good leg and slowly shuffling along.

On their way out they both nodded to Ailenil, who smiled and nodded back at them as they passed her. Tauriel was leading them towards the mouth of the forest, and within minutes they were under the trees and in the shade, the sun peaking through the branches in little slivers of light. A moment later they were at a fallen tree, and she eased him down onto it, then took a seat next to him, close. He closed his eyes and lifted his head, basking in the warmth of those slivers of sunlight, feeling the breeze on his face. When he opened his eyes she was staring at him calmly, a languid smile on her face. She looked away shyly.

"This is a nice spot." he said, breaking the silence.

"Yes. Private, but not too far from your tent. You have to take this healing process slowly."

"I know." he whispered, feeling the weight of his sadness again on his heart. So many things reminded him of Thorin and Fili - his wound, Erebor, the trees, even Tauriel herself. They had been a part of every moment of his life - when would thoughts of them stop being accompanied by these waves of grief? When would he be able to think on them without feeling sorry for himself?

He felt Tauriel take his hand. He squeezed it. She gently rested her head on his shoulder, and he could feel her breath on his neck, felt the slight tickle of her silken hair against his skin. He closed his eyes. "You are the only reason I'm in one piece right now." he said, softly. She said nothing, but stroked his hand with her fingers. "My heart is so heavy, I feel weighted down with grief." he confessed. "There are so many things I'm supposed to do...so many decisions that have to be made...and I can barely think past getting through each and every moment. It is so hard..." his voice broke. He would not let himself cry again. He fought to hold the tears back behind his eyes.

"It is always hard to lose the ones we love." she said, softly. "I know this pain. This heavy darkness. The hollow ache will forever be there, but the weight is lessened, with each passing year. The ache further away."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the top of her's. The scent of flowers and honey drifted up at him. "Who did you lose?" he whispered.

"My parents." she said simply. "Many centuries ago. I was but an elfling."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I never knew my Da. He died before I was born. Thorin was...he was the one who raised me, with my Ma. He, Ma and Fili were my whole life."

"But Fili was the most important."

It was not a question. She knew. Whether she could feel it in the bond they now shared, or simply observed it from her time with the brothers, made no difference. It was true. "Yes." he said, simply. There was nothing else to say.

"You are not alone in this." she said, firmly. "I will be with you, through all your hurts."

He sighed against her hair. "I know. That is what keeps me going, in the moments I feel like I am going to break from the pain, I see your face. The way you looked when you healed me in Lake Town. Crowned in a golden light. I'd never felt so at peace in my life, and I was dying at the time."

She smiled, and pulled her head up, looking at him. "No more almost dying, Kili. There are plenty of other ways to flirt with me."

He laughed, amazed at her ability to make him feel lighter, and turn a moment weighted with grief into one of joy. They stared at each other then, happiness written on both their faces. He leaned in close to her, feeling the pull between them, and whispered against her lips, "Aye, there are." Then he kissed her under the trees, the sun sparkling through the gaps of the forest like so many diamonds. She returned his kiss, and they stayed there in the woods for some time, trading kisses and talking, and never once parting their hands from one another. They had come so close to being forever pulled apart and separated, and now clung to one another, as if saying to the powers of the world, _we will not be parted until the end of our days_.


	9. Chapter 9

The mood in the wide open cavern was solemn, dark. Candles unnumbered lit the large stone space, like so many stars, and as Kili looked around him at the swell of Dwarves, Men and Elves gathered there he wondered if there had been such a sight since the Elder Days. He shifted under the stone bench, the first in a row that went upwards towards the back of the cavern, and slid his hand into Tauriel's. He was not ready for this - but how does one prepare themselves for a moment so heartwrenching? He purposefully kept his eyes averted from the two stone coffins not a few feet in front of him. Atop them lay both Thorin and Fili, incense burning around their bodies, gems and jewels and flowers surrounding them atop the stone. Gandalf stood off to the left, with Mr. Baggins practically clinging to his cloak, looking pale and stricken. Gandalf had his hand on the poor Hobbit's shoulder, steadying him. To the right stood Thranduil and his people, Legolas on his right hand side. Their faces were impassive - this must seem a strange thing to them, putting bodies to rest so far underground, to lie in rock and stone. The way of their people was to be laid to rest in green mounds under the open sky and the light of the stars. But this was the Dwarven way. Back to the earth and stone from which they had sprung.

A shift and a murmer swept through the cavern, and Kili took a deep breath. There were dwarves from wall to wall, filling the stone benches, standing at attention as far as his eyes could see. All eyes moved to the mouth of the cavern, where brighter lights moved closer, and the shuffling of feet and the clinking of jewels echoed throughout the silent cavern. Dain and his people entered, and somewhere from behind the King Under the Mountain, a lone, strong baritone began to sing out long, solemn notes. As the party neared the coffins, the voice was joined by others in a harmony both utterly sad and utterly beautiful, a tapestry of deep voices echoing in the deep. The notes turned to words, in Khuzdul, a traditional funeral song that had been passed down from the days of Durin the Deathless, and soon the whole of the cavern reverberated with the song, and even those who could not understand it felt its meaning.

Kili's grip on Tauriel's hand tightened, and he felt himself trembling, feeling the hollow ache of his loss as it were a wound deeper than any he had suffered. It throbbed, somewhere deep in his heart, it yearned and twisted and threatened to overwhelm him with waves of emotion - pain, grief, anger, guilt, despair - all of this passed through him as he sat, still as stone, his eyes now unwillingly drawn to the coffins, locked on the face of his brother, who looked to him, mockingly, as if he were just sleeping.

Suddenly the song stopped. The original singer let out a few more notes, forlornly ending the dirge. All eyes turned to Dain. The dwarf, regaled in finery from head to toe, with a fur lined cloak and gems on his fingers, turned to face Kili and the others, his face mournful. Kili's eyes flickered to the crown on his head - the same crown Thorin had worn during his brief time as King Under the Mountain - and then looked away.

Dain raised his hands, and his voice rang out, clear into the echoing distance of the cavern, reaching every being who stood there. "My people. Honored guests of Erebor. We come here today to perform a solemn duty." He lowered his arms, and let out an almost imperceptible sigh. "The Battle of the Five Armies has been won. Erebor is reclaimed, and dwarves long scattered return now to their home of old. But these things were not accomplished without a cost." He shifted, and nodded to Thranduil, who bowed deeply in return. "Many peoples died that day, in defense of this kingdom, and the lands that lie around it. Many Elves fought and died alongside Dwarven brothers. Many Men," he turned to where Bard stood next to Gandalf, and nodded to him. Bard also bowed in kind, his face stern. "Have also laid down their lives, and lost much. Such a thing has not been seen since The Last Alliance, many years ago." He paused, looking around the cavern at the multitude of dwarven faces. "Our peoples may have had their differences, and aye, many would be right to say that we still do. At_ this _moment, however, during_ this _time, we honor them all. Together, these fragile alliances we have wrought will be in memory of those who on that day, cared not whether it was Dwarf or Elf or Man who fought alongside them, but only that they fought the same enemy, for the same reason - the freedom of the peoples of Middle Earth!" A cheer rang out among the crowd, dwarves banging their weapons to the ground, Men calling out and the Elves nodding in approval of the King's words.

Dain raised his hands again, signaling for silence once more. A hush fell over the crowd again. "Thorin, son of Thrain, known as the Oakenshield, was my cousin." Dain's voice turned softer now, and Kili looked at his face, seeing there an echo of his own grief - it was good to know that Dain felt the loss of Thorin as the Company did. "He came from the line of Durin. Honorable, his blood, and his heart. Strong. He survived the Dragon's sack of Erebor, and he never forgave, and he never forgot. Many among us had given up hope of ever reclaiming this kingdom. Many among us failed to act, while he stood up and rallied, against all hope, pursuing his destiny to the last breath - to bring Erebor to the hands of his people again. To bring a home to the Dwarves of Middle Earth." Dain sighed. "There was no braver dwarf among us, than Thorin, King Under the Mountain, who lies now in its bosom."

Kili stared, feeling tears flowing but not sure when he had started to cry. He felt Tauriel's arm on his back, stroking him silently as he cried.

Again Dain rose his voice up. "Fili, son of Dis, of the line of Durin, was one who answered Thorin's call. His sister-son, his heir, Fili had a lion-heart, and was trained by Thorin as a warrior, a leader, and a future king. Who is to say what could have been? Who is to say why some of the young die while some of the old live? Of Fili, I say this: He makes all of us who name ourself Dwarf, proud. He saw more in his short time than many of you old warriors have seen in all your days. Faced Cave Trolls. Goblins. Orcs. Rode on the backs of the Eagles. Saw fair lands far and wide, even to the strange far West where the Halflings live, and the closed off lands of the Elves, which few outside their race have seen. I do not know all that makes a life good, or well-lived, or true - but I do know that this great warrior, who lies here today among his kin of old, truly did _live_."

Kili hung his head. Truer words he could not have spoken himself. He focused on his breathing, feeling as if the weight of this moment might crush him entirely. Tauriel's flesh against his own was his only anchor right now - without her here to lift him up, he was sure he would have drowned in the darkness and emptiness of his own heart.

Dain moved slowly away from the coffins, standing off to the side. A low choir of deep voices began again, singing a quiet dirge as slowly, those who knew Thorin and Fili began to get up and make their way to them, saying their last goodbyes. Members of the Company went first. Kili saw Dwalin, tears in his eyes, supported by Balin who wept openly, approach the high stones. Each of them said a few words privately, and placed a charm or a jewel upon the rock bed. Before backing away, they both bowed deeply - one last show of respect to their King and King-Who-Would-Have-Been. After they moved away, Ori, Nori and Dori went forward, looking shell-shocked and somber. Next came Oin and Gloin, and Kili could swear he heard Gloin say something about paying back a loan, as he emptied a small pouch of gold coins onto Thorin's stone, before turning away and rushing off, tears streaked down his face and into his red beard. Finally Bifur, Bombur and Bofur made their way up, and Kili smiled slightly as he watched Bofur put his hand on Fili's chest, his hat in his hand, and sing a few bars of the tune Fili had liked best.

The Dwarven dirge still continued in the background. Kili looked over to see Gandalf leading Bilbo to the coffins. The little Hobbit stood on his tip-toes, and looked at Fili, tears in his eyes. Gandalf leaned over him, his eyes closed, and whispered a few words. Bilbo touched Fili's arm, then stepped back, trembling, and turned to say his goodbyes to Thorin. Kili held his breath. He knew the two had become close, a friendship as he had not seen Thorin have in all the years he had known him. Bilbo had made Thorin smile and laugh in a way that was hard for anyone else to do. There was a lightness that the Hobbit had brought out in him, and Kili had been glad to see that side of his Uncle. Bilbo was on his tiptoes again, and Gandalf stood back this time, watching. Bilbo reached into his pocket, and pulled out two acorns. Kili's brow furrowed - acorns? He heard the Hobbit whisper, "There were always two, you know. I thought...I thought we could each plant one. To remind each other..." he began to sob, and shook his head, putting his hand over his mouth as he composed himself. He took a few deep breaths, then wriggled his nose the way he did before he was about to say something or do something he had been thinking about for some time. He leaned forward on his tip toes again, gently laying one of the acorns atop Thorin's chest, near to his hands, so that it almost looked like he was clasping it. The Hobbit looked at Thorin's face, and Kili knew, because he knew he would do the same with Fili, that Bilbo was studying it, to remember what he looked like, to try not to forget. He leaned forward so he was close, and said something Kili couldn't catch. Then he pulled away, and gave a broad, sad smile. Gandalf put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder, and the hobbit sighed. Gandalf put his other hand on Thorin's chest, and bowed his head. "Thank you, my friend. Namarie." he said, and then led the Hobbit away.

Kili watched them leave, and felt as if he had become part of the stone bench beneath him. He knew he should get up and say his goodbyes - but he couldn't will his body to move. He shook his head, readying himself, and just as he was going to force himself to get up, he watched Thranduil and Bard converge on the two coffins. He looked to Tauriel, who looked suprised herself, and shook her head to him. He turned back and stared - he didn't think these two would want to honor the dwarf, who, in his gold sickness, had treated them so poorly. The two leaders nodded to each other. Kili watched as Thranduil signaled to Legolas, who walked over to his father and unsheathed a sword - the air in the room changed as everyone tensed. Kili recognized the sword, though - Orcrist. Thorin had wielded it since they had found it with the Cave Trolls, and then the Elves of Mirkwood had confiscated it. What were they doing now?

As if responding to the tense reaction of the crowd, Thranduil turned to face Kili and the others of the Company, as well as Dain. "This is Orcrist, a sword forged in the Elder Days by the High Elves of Gondolin." he began, his voice echoing out over the cavern, regal and strong. "When I first met Thorin Oakenshield, he had entered my kingdom, seeking to traverse it and make his way to the Lonely Mountain. Of course, at the time, he kept his intentions hidden from me, but I gleaned what he was after. Like most, I considered it a fool's quest, sure to end in fire and death. I can say now, I mourn those who have died at the feet of Erebor - but I admit that the actions of Thorin, King Under the Mountain, did indeed bring us together to fight an evil none knew was on the rise, and the wise among my people now say that the Enemy is weaker without the foul dragon Smaug alive to do His bidding. In this, Thorin has changed the course of the world, and there may come a day when we look back and say, do not forget Thorin Oakenshiled, and Fili, son of Dis, and those who died at the Lonley Mountain, for without their sacrifice, the world would be a darker place." He moved forward a few steps, gracefully, his robes sweeping the stone floor so it seemed as if he glided. He held aloft the sword. "When Thorin treated with me in the Greenwood, I had taken his weapons, finding this amongst them. When my son fought upon Ravenhill, against a sea of enemies, he made sure this sword came back into Thorin's hands. With it, Azog the Defiler was slain." Thranduil looked at Kili then, locking eyes with him. "With this sword, Orcrist, a weapon so famed it was wielded even by the warriors of Gondolin against Orcs, Balrogs, and Worms alike, Thorin, King Under the Mountain will be buried. We Elves honor him, and his sacrifice. Hodo vae, Thorin Oakenshield." Thranduil bowed then, his eyes still locked on Kili, and then swept aside, gently placing the sword upon Thorin's breast before walking back towards his people.

Kili and Tauriel stared at each other, and she gave him a sad smile. He returned it, and watched as Bard stepped forward to speak. "I cannot deny that the arrival of thirteen dwarves to Laketown was a surprise, and a doom to my people. The dragon came down from the mountain raining fire and death upon us all, and my people suffered." There was a silence, and then a rumble among the crowd. "However, I have spoken with the wise Lords gathered here today, and it is clear to me that with or without Thorin's quest, an evil was stirring in these lands that would have come down upon us anyway, in time. When the Orcs and goblins came, with their Cave Trolls and their wargs, they came upon a troupe of Men, women and children desperate and cold, having lost their homes and their livelihoods. But we did not stand alone." Bard turned and nodded again to Thranduil, then to Dain, then lastly to Kili and the Company seated around him. "At the end, when it mattered most, Thorin and his people came to our defense, along with the Elves under King Thranduil. Together, out of all hope, we fought and died to protect these lands. And through the generosity and friendship of Dain, King Under the Mountain, and Thranduil, King of the Woodland realm, the people of Lake Town will rebuild Dale, and rise again stronger than we were before." There was nodding and a mumbling now of approval. Bard reached into his vest, and pulled out the glittering and beautiful Arkenstone, which seemed to shine with a light from another world. Gasps and murmering swept the crowd, and even Dain and Gandalf looked suprised. Thranduil stood impassive, his eyes moving between the stone and Bard, who held it aloft.

"The Arkenstone has forever been a symbol for the line of Durin, for the leader of the people of the Mountain. If it so pleases those gathered here today, I will place it upon the breast of Thorin Oakenshield, so that it may rest with him in these stone halls, until the End of Days." The murmering continued and new gasps reverberated throughout the hall. All eyes turned to Dain, and Kili and Tauriel both held their breath as Dain stared at the jewel. Kili tensed, knowing what the stone had done to Thorin, associating with it the dragon sickness and all that had gone wrong before the Battle. A long few moments passed, and the murmering died down, all eyes now locked either upon Dain or the the Arkenstone, held high by Bard, who waited patiently for the answer.

Dain took a step forward, his arm outstretched, and a strange look upon his face. Kili saw Gandalf looking worried, and watched him tense, as if ready to move at any moment. Dain's eyes hovered on the stone, and Kili looked to Tauriel, then slowly stood, ignoring the pain in his wound and letting go of her hand for the first time since they had entered the chamber. It felt as if everyone present held their breath - the silence and the anticipation was palpable. Dain was slowly moving towards Bard, but Kili stared at him intently, and Dain's eyes shifted to him. They looked at each other, and Kili shook his head slowly, trying to silently impart to the King that the Arkenstone was dangerous, that it should be laid to rest deep in the stone.

After a few more long moments Dain dropped his arm and shook his head, as if wakening himself from a dream. He straightened himself up, standing tall, and then looked around the cavern at the faces of his people. He nodded. "Yes." he said. "Yes, lay the stone with Thorin, and let it forever lie with the one dwarf who returned us to our home. Let him lie with the light of the stone, and be forever illuminated."

Dain looked to Kili again, he Kili nodded, relieved. Kili sank down again to the stone seat and let out a hissing breath. He was beginning to feel the pain of his wound again, and would need to take a draught soon. The effort of getting up the Mountain and then following the long, twisting caverns to this hall had taken its toll. He only hoped Tauriel didn't notice yet. He needed to stay just a little bit longer. He needed to say his own goodbyes.

Dain made a signal with his hand, and turned away, heading slowly for the exit. The dwarves began their singing again, one last dirge before the bodies would be lowered into the stone coffins, and covered with stone slabs. Sealed forever here, with the other Dwarves of old. Slowly, people began to exit the cavern. Long lines of Dwarves and Men, the company of Thranduil and his Elves, Bard and his people. Finally Gandalf and Bilbo turned to exit, and the other members of the Company sitting around him began to leave as well, all of them murmering words of support to Kili as he sat, patting him on the back or squeezing his shoulder as they passed. Within another half an hour, the cavern was near empty, and Kili knew he could put off no longer what he considered a waking nightmare - to look upon the bodies of his Uncle and his brother, and to see them for one last time. To say...goodbye. To try and let them go.

Tauriel nudged his shoulder. "Meleth nin..." she said, gently. He looked at her and gulped. She smiled slightly, squeezing his hand and then letting it go. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No," he said softly. "I must do this alone."

She nodded and stood up, offering her hand. He took it and rose again, not bothering to hide the pain on his face - they would leave here soon and she would make him a draught, and change his bandages. He stared at the coffins. Slowly, hobbling a little, he limped towards them, leaving Tauriel standing by the stone bench, watching him with worry and sorrow in her eyes.

As he neared the stone he took deep, shuddering breaths. He went to Thorin first. He too, looked like he was sleeping. They had laid him out in finery such as he had rarely worn while Kili knew him. He reached out and touched his chest, feeling the soft leather there. He looked upon Thorin, with Orcrist upon his breast, Bilbo's acorn near his hands, and the Arkenstone lying close to the hilt of the sword, casting a white-blue light onto Thorin's face. Rarely did he look peaceful like this in life. The light of the stone seemed to make him look ethereal, as if he were appearing as Fili did, on that strange shore when Kili was between life and death. He knew Thorin was in the halls of their fathers now - did Fili not tell him so? But at this moment it was little comfort. To know that he would never see with his living eyes the face of the man that raised him ever again was a hurt so deep, he felt as if he might double over with pain. He shook his head, and watched tears fall onto that soft leather on Thorin's chest. "I never thought I would see you like this so soon, Uncle." he said softly. "I know you are at peace...but I will miss you. I will think of you every time I use my bow and my knives. I will remember the lessons you gave me. I will...I will try to...make you proud..." He shut his eyes tight. He took another deep breath. He leaned in, putting his forehead to Thorin's forehead. Then he backed away, his eyes never looking away from his face.

Finally he felt his back hit the stone of his brother's coffin. A sob escaped his lips then, and he tore his eyes away from Thorin's face and slowly turned to face the too-still form of his older brother. He looked down at his face and broke, seeing in it a flash of him living - seeing in his mind's eye Fili smiling, laughing, scowling, yelling - that look he got when they were caught doing something they weren't supposed to - and lastly, that look they shared, as brothers, when they would look at each other and not have to say with words what they were thinking. He buried his face in Fili's chest, clutching at his arm, crying. How was he supposed to let him go? They'd not been seperated all their lives. And now...

He felt Tauriel behind him. Her presence grounded him somewhat. He straightened up, wiping the tears from his eyes. He gripped Fili's arm, holding it tight. "I know that somehow, I got a chance to really talk to you...somewhere...in between..." he started, trying his best to keep himself composed as he said the words. "I know that was the real you. I know that this...you...you're already gone. You are with Uncle now, in those halls...those halls of stone...across the Sea..." He took another deep breath. "I know that." Another deep, shuddering breath. "You looked so at peace. You told me you were alright. I just...I just wish, Fee, that somehow I could see you again. To really think that this is the last time...the _last time_ I'll see your face..." he trailed off again. He squeezed Fili's arm tighter, and took his other hand, touching Fili's and leaning in, looking at his face intently. "I love you, Fee. Every day I wake up and my first thought is to find you. And then I remember...it's like every day I'm re-living what happened on Ravenhill. Every day I'm...watching you die, in my head, all over again. And it's like I'm still at the bottom of that hill - I'm too far away, it's too late to help you. I'm alone." Another shuddering breath. More tears began to fall, some dropping onto Fili's hand, warm tears hitting cold flesh. "Fili, I know I'm reckless and silly and always one step behind you - but I will keep my promise to you. I'll learn to be less reckless and silly. I'll live my life...and I'll keep you close...always..." He leaned in closer still, and put his forehead to Fili's own, ignoring the unnatural cold and clammy skin, closing his eyes and whispering, "I'll be one step behind you still, but I'll take that step one day, and I'll find you. Gamut nanun. Tak natu yenet." He opened his eyes, and slowly pulled back. He felt another sob tear from his chest and pass his lips. He watched his hand as it sled from Fili's. He watched as his other arm let go, and he let his arm fall to his side. He took one step back, then another. Instinctively, because the pain was growing stronger now, he held one hand to his wound. He backed up again, his eyes not leaving Fili's face, until he felt Tauriel's hand in his own.

Tauriel whispered to him, and held his hand as she helped him leave the cavern. They walked slowly throught the lamplit halls. As they neared the exit to Erebor, he grew weaker, and feared his knees would buckle underneath him. Tauriel must have known - she sat him down and bid him stay, and, as if in a haze, he silently obeyed. He felt so drained now, so empty, so tired. His wound throbbed and his heart ached. Tauriel returned with a pony, and she said something but Kili couldn't hear her - he could barely focus on her face. Unceremoniously, she lifted him and placed him on the pony's back, cursing under her breath in Elvish. He barely registered this, but somewhere in the back of his mind a thought flittered by - those dwarves who saw a she-elf lift him up onto a pony were going to give him a hard time tomorrow.

They were moving now, and everything passed him by in a blur of sound and firelight and noise - music and voices lifted up into the night. Finally they were back at the tent, and she lifted him again, carrying him straight to the small bed. He started to drift off then, blackness overcoming the edges of his vision.

"Oh no you don't!" she yelled, and he started, looking around wildly, and sighing. She came over, and he could feel her weight on the bed. "Drink this." she demanded, and he could smell the tea. He groaned. "Lift yourself up and drink, or I'll lift you myself and force it down into you!" she cried.

He shook his head but slowly obliged, pushing himself up so his head was against the pillows, at enough of an angle where he could drink. He lifted his heavy eyes and looked at her. "Alright, alright." he said, weakly. He took a few sips. The warmth and potency of the tea stirred in him, and he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Are you _sure _you're not a dwarrowdam?" he said, teasingly.

She gave him a small smile. "I am _not _a dwarrowdam, but I'm glad to keep hearing I am alike to them, as I'm sure I'll be meeting some soon." she paused, and looked at him more gravely. "You will be alright." she said.

He finished another few large gulps and slowly nodded. "I don't know how. But I will. I have to." he said.

"Meleth nin..." she leaned in and kissed his cheek. She pulled back, looking at him.

"Amralime." he said, groggily. "I think you made this tea...too strong...again." he said, feeling the sleepiness overcoming him.

"It was on purpose this time. You need to get some rest. Tonight was too exerting for you, both physically and emotionally. Please, meleth nin, sleep, and I will change your dressings. We will speak again in the morning. I will be here, when you wake up." she smiled at him, and the last thing he saw before he drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep was her smile.


End file.
